His Maid, Fallen
by Maya Koppori
Summary: In the countryside of England, there is an estate belonging to the Phantomhive family. Running in the countryside is a girl with a strange past. What happens when the estate offers her a home and job? And why does Sebby scare her so much? FinnyxOC
1. Chapter 1

**Hi Kuro lovers! This is my first attempt at a Kuro fanfic, and also my first attempt at a long fanfic. (By long, I mean it actually has... a plot!) I wrote this chapter from many different places at many different times, so I apologize if the moods are different, too. The ideas kept changing and shifting in my head. BUT! I had a lot of fun writing this, and plan to continue. But that won't matter to you, dear reader, unless you follow the shiny little arrow... and have fun reading! _PS: I do not own Black Butler in any way, shape or form._**

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The wind howled through the pounding rain, forcing the trees to bow in submission to the elements.

The lone figure bolted down the well-worn dirt road, her long dark hair plastered to her face by the rain. Hampered by her sodden dress, she stumbled in the thick mud as she chanced a look over her shoulder at her pursuers, nearly falling on her face. Scrambling to keep moving, she lifted her face to the stormy sky, startled by the flashes of lightning and cacophonous thunder.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck just ahead of her on the road, destroying an old tree with a sickening_ crack_. The girl pulled on her remaining stamina and put on a burst of speed to avoid the tree, which tumbled to earth and effectively blocked the road.

Although there was now no chance of that belligerent mob catching up to her any time soon, the terrified girl could not keep her legs from trudging on and on through the downpour. Various places on her body were screaming with pain, but she could not stop.

However, she was only human, and was about to collapse from exhaustion when she met with a sign from heaven; there was a carriage departing from an opulent manor down the road. Waving her arms wildly, the young lady managed to catch the driver's attention and flag down the carriage.

The driver, a tall man in a tailcoat, hopped gracefully down from his seat.

"Are you alright, Miss? Has something happened?" The driver procured an umbrella seemingly from nowhere and held it over both their heads. Exhausted and relieved, the girl let out a piteous moan as her knees buckled, then fainted dead away.

Caught by surprise, the man with the umbrella flung his arm out to catch her with alarming speed. If the girl had been conscious, she might have wondered how anyone could move so fast. The door to the carriage abruptly slammed open, revealing a young man wearing a top hat and a scowl.

"What is it now, Sebastian?" the boy drawled. "If you even _think _about trying to smuggle another stray cat into... my..." The boy looked baffled for a moment. "Sebastian, why on earth are you holding an unconscious girl in the rain?"

"I suppose that would be because she fainted, my lord." Sebastian smirked at his master's impatient glare. Putting the umbrella aside, (they were both already soaking wet, so why bother now?) he lifted the child into his arms.

"Young master, you know we cannot simply leave her out here. This kind of weather can be deadly." The young man snorted.

"You think that I would do that, Sebastian? I am the Earl Ciel Phantomhive, head of England's Underworld and the Queen's watchdog. As such, the Phantomhive hospitality is demanded in all situations."

Ciel observed the young girl in his butler's arms, feeling a slight pang of... what was this? Pity? Even worse, sympathy? Shaking his head as if to clear water from his ears, Ciel continued.

"It appears our meeting with the Undertaker will have to wait. This is what he gets for calling in the middle of the night, I suppose. Put her in the carriage and have Mey-rin set her up for tonight.

"On second thought," the young Earl glanced over at Sebastian as he helped position the sleeping girl on the bench seat. "You will have to do it. Mey-rin will surely find something to break even at this late hour. Am I understood?"

Sebastian knelt in the receding storm, hand on his heart. His reply was always the same.

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

><p>Slanted afternoon light spilled in through the open curtains, causing the huddled form in the bed to stir slightly. <em>I don't want to get up yet. It's so... warm<em>.

The girl let herself become lost in the wonder of her sleep-muddled senses. Cool, fresh sheets surrounded her entire body, swaddling her like a newborn baby. She burrowed deeper into them, absorbing the light fragrance of vanilla and lilac. Letting a contented sigh escape from her lips, she decided to stay put for a few more hours.

Reality, however, had different plans. Memory hit as hard and fast as lightning from last night's storm. The girl bolted upright with a gasp as she recalled the events of the previous evening, only to be gently pressed back down against her fluffy down pillow. Another young lady with thick round glasses was hovering over her with a concerned expression.

"Be still, please, Miss. That was a right nasty storm we had, yes it was. I can't imagine what you would be doing out in that gale all by yourself! If Mr. Sebastian and the Young Master hadn't-"

The red-haired chatterbox continued to hover and fuss while the extremely groggy girl took in her surroundings. She was lying in a large, ornate bed in a very large, very ornate room. The orangey light from the setting sun bounced off of the gleaming mahogany floor, causing the scarlet and gold of the walls and bedcovers to glow with a surreal luminosity that made her head spin.

Turning her head slightly to one side, the girl found the only source of cooler color in the room: a bundle of dark blue cornflowers in a plain glass of water. Despite the luxuries surrounding her, the girl found those small blossoms the most beautiful things in the room. The redhead followed her gaze and broke off midsentence.

"Those _are_ quite lovely, aren't they, Miss? Finny brought those when he came by, he did. Said he thought they might help ya to wake up. He wouldn't stop fussing about, even though I _told_ him-!"

"Mey-rin, what did I say about pestering our guest when she awoke?" The exasperated chastisement came from the doorway, cutting off the flustered girl's rambling. Mey-rin began to fall over herself apologizing.

"Oh my my my, I'm so sorry, Sebastian! And you too, Miss." she squeaked. "I'll just be leaving now, I will!" And with that, the very, very confused young girl was alone with the driver from the carriage. Suddenly aware of the flimsy nightgown she was wearing, (_When did I change clothes, anyway?_ she panicked) she struggled to prop herself up as he slowly made his way to her bedside and bowed lightly.

"How are you feeling today, miss?"

The girl tried to speak, but her vocal cords felt like sandpaper. She fell into a coughing fit that wracked her whole body. When she was able to control the violent cough, Sebastian presented her with a steaming cup of tea. _Where did that come from?_ she wondered as she took a small sip. It was very hot, but somehow effectively soothed her poor throat.

"Thank you." she whispered. For the first time, she looked the man in front of her straight in the eyes. Her amethyst eyes bored right through his garnet ones. She raised her voice a bit, though her words still grated on her own ears. "Thank you very much for saving me. I am forever in your debt, Mister Sebastian."

Sebastian gave her a lilted half-smile and bowed again. "It is not my hospitality you should be thankful for, but my master's. I will have Mey-rin return to help you dress, and then Lord Phantomhive would like to meet you himself, miss...?" Here the butler paused for a moment, allowing his guest to realize that this was his way of asking her name.

"Criel."

"I beg your pardon?"

The still nameless young lady cringed as she registered the state of her voice. Even she hadn't recognized her last name. She coughed again and took one more strengthening sip of tea.

"I said Criel. My name is Anya Criel."

"Sebastian Michaelis. It is an honor."

* * *

><p>Anya winced as Mey-rin tugged the comb through her matted hair. <em>What is he going to say? What am I going to do if he's angry at me? Here I am, imposing on their amazing hospitality, and he probably has a lot of work to do. I've heard rumors about the Earl of Phantomhive. What kind of person must he be to bear the title of the Queen's Watchdog?<em>

Of course, everyone had heard of the infamous Phantomhives, and their gruesome reputation. The head of the family was, next to the Queen herself, probably the most powerful and influential people in the country.

_Becalmbecalmbecalmbecalm._

Mey-rin continued to babble on, oblivious to the dark aura surrounding Anya.

"Oh, the master will be so pleased to see you all cleaned and shiny-like, yes he will! Now I warn you, he can be a mite bit intimidatin' at first, so just keep your head and try to be calm. It has been awhile since we had such a young guest though, hasn't it? All right, now let's get you dressed and over to the study!" Mey-rin began to tug at Anya's nightgown, but Anya pulled away.

"Mey-rin?" Anya asked. "Was it you who changed my clothes last night?"

"Why, of course, miss, yes I did!" Mey-rin exclaimed, her voice squeaking a bit. "I'm the only other girl in residence, that I am." Her tone turned playful. "You didn't think I would leave that to Sebastian, now did you?"

"Of course not!" Heat flooded Anya's face from chin to hairline. "I was simply curious... you say that you're farsighted?"

Mey-rin cocked her head to one side. "Of course, miss, yes I am. Why do you ask?" Anya smiled reassuringly.

"Oh, no reason. Now, shall we get on with this monstrosity of a dressing gown?" Mey-rin laughed good-naturedly.

"Say… Mey-rin?" Anya cast a furtive glance at the flowers on the bureau. "Where did you say those came from? They _are_ very pretty." The maid looked up as she tied the laces on the back of Anya's dress.

"Why, Finny brought them. He's our gardener. Oh, you really should meet him Miss Anya, if only to calm him down a bit. He kept asking when you would wake up and who you were and if his flowers had helped at all. You really had all of us worried, sleeping through the night and all through the day like that. I'll introduce you after you finish meeting with the young master."

Mey-rin stepped back to examine her work. To her, Anya looked like a proper lady, but there was something missing…

"Pardon me, but I'd like to try something." Anya raised a questioning eyebrow as the maid plucked a cornflower from the glass and split the stem down the middle. In seconds, the flower had become a vine-like band with a beautiful blue "gem". Anya slid it onto each finger of her left hand, but it wouldn't settle on any but her ring finger, where it felt right at home.

Anya sent a silent thank you to Mey-rin -and the mysterious Finny as- Sebastian returned and led her down a series of corridors. This ring would be her anchor, her good luck charm. The flower petals lightly caressed her finger in what could be interpreted as an encouraging way. Anya steeled herself as the butler came to a stop and knocked gently on a closed door.

* * *

><p>Ciel Phantomhive sat brooding in his study, paperwork forgotten. He couldn't stop thinking about his strange guest just a few rooms away. <em>What kind of girl goes gallivanting through the countryside in the middle of a tempest of that magnitude? A thief? A runaway? Is she in trouble? <em>

Ciel sighed. Did he really have time for this? The Undertaker had called again, saying that he had urgent news and needed to see him immediately. "By the way," the Shinigami had added. "You'll probably be getting a letter from Her Majesty any time now. So many new clients..." Then he had hung up abruptly.

Lost in thought, the young Earl jumped at the knock on his study door. "Come in, Sebastian."

The butler opened the door and held it in place to let his companion into the study. Ciel's breath caught in his throat. _This _was the drowned rat they had taken in late last night?

The girl -the _lady_- stepped cautiously forward and stood in front of Ciel's desk, wringing her hands and basically looking the picture of nervous innocence. Her muddy clothes had been exchanged for a simple light blue frock with white stockings and black flats. Washed and dried, her now much lighter brown hair was pulled back with a single blue ribbon.

Keeping her violet eyes downcast, the young girl curtsied awkwardly.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Lord Phantomhive. My name is Anya Criel and I would like to express my deepest gratitude to you for undoubtedly saving my life. There is no way I will ever be able to repay your kindness." Anya stood very still then, awaiting a response.

Ciel stood up suddenly, causing Anya to flinch involuntarily. He was going to yell at her, wasn't he? For the first time since entering the study, Anya pried her eyes from the patterned carpet. Her heart skipped a few beats. _Why, he's only a child. The Earl can't be more than a year older than me._

It was true; Ciel Phantomhive was like a child dressed in his very short father's Sunday clothes. While everything about him radiated wealth and confidence, his face was still quite childlike, his hair demurely shadowing the left side of his face.

The young Earl walked around his desk so that he stood only a few feet in front of Anya. He moved slowly, deliberately. He wondered at Anya's obvious distress, but decided not to give her any more cause to worry.

He swept his hat from his head with aplomb capable only of a noble. In the process, he accidentally messed up his blue-ish hair, giving Anya a glimpse of something she hadn't noticed yet; the boy only had one eye. As the shimmering orb gazed at her curiously, Anya found her own curiosity focused on the black patch over Ciel's right eye.

"There is nothing to thank us for, Miss Criel." Ciel's voice brought Anya to her senses, reminding her not to stare.

"I like to believe that any half decent person would do the same. I don't wish to intrude on your privacy, but I'm quite curious as to why you were in the middle of the country during the biggest storm England has seen in ten years."

Ciel gestured for Anya to sit in one of the two chairs at the coffee table. The poor girl sat, completely frazzled.

"Would you like some tea? Mey-rin informed me that you seem to have caught a slight cold. I assure you, Sebastian's tea is always delicious and rejuvenating."

Anya smiled. "I know. Mister Sebastian was kind enough to make some earlier when I woke up." She jumped, remembering just who she was talking to. It was disconcerting, speaking with a noble who was also merely a child like herself. "My lord." she mumbled.

Ciel frowned as Sebastian served the Earl Grey. "Is something the matter, Miss Criel? You seem a bit troubled."

Anya stared at him with frightened eyes. She accepted another cup of tea from the ever present butler before stammering, "Well, it's just that-well- no one has been nearly as kind to me as you, my lord, or anyone in your estate for that matter. It scares me a little, as if this is a dream and I have to wake up and go back home." Ciel sighed and sat down across from Anya.

"Now we're getting somewhere. Please, will you tell me why you were running?" Anya hesitated.

"It's alright." Ciel assured. "No one here is going to hurt you. You're perfectly safe."

* * *

><p><em>Sebastian felt mild surprise flicker across his face. The young master was rarely this gentle with anyone, including his fiancée Lady Elizabeth. Perhaps this was a side of Ciel that Sebastian had seen only rarely, himself. This was the part of Ciel that had been locked away with his past, and made rusty from disuse. This was the side of the Earl that allowed him to connect to someone like him, another lost child.<em>

* * *

><p>Anya searched Ciel's face for a moment, reading into his expression and finding total sincerity in his words. <em>Finally<em>, she thought, _this is someone I can trust_. Anya took a steadying breath and dove into her story.

"I have been a permanent resident at the Rosenbloom Estate for as long as I can remember. My mother worked there as a maid, you see. It was the only job she could find, and not a very good one. Count Rosenbloom's business was falling into bankruptcy. Even his personal affairs always ended in disaster. Ill fortune hung over the household like a storm cloud." Ciel noted that Anya's eyes glazed over a bit. This was obviously a story she had been told many times.

"Despite the supposedly cursed job, Mother was very happy. She fell in love with the gardener and after a time they married and I was the result. However, three months before I was due to be born, there... was a terrible accident. Father was killed by a runaway horse. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Yard never even found the horse or its owner. Mother was, needless to say, heartbroken. After that day, she wouldn't eat, sleep, or speak a word. By the time she went into labor, her body was so malnourished that she died in childbirth." Anya swallowed back unshod tears and gritted her teeth.

"She had no family. No one to take care of her, or to help raise me. The only person in the world who knew about me and could take me in was Count Rosenbloom. He was at the end of the line, but he still took me under his wing like his own child." Anya smiled sadly.

"That was the day his life turned around. The copper mine struck _gold._ The lost ship overseas turned up in Tahiti with tons and tons of jewels and ancient artifacts. The scullery maid found a trapdoor in the cellar that concealed a safe containing 100,000 quid. Every single venture the Count had failed in became a huge success. He wept for joy and adopted me officially on the spot."

Ciel gave her expression a scrutinizing glance as Sebastian ladled honey into her tea. "If I'm not mistaken," he said at last. "These are all _good _things. Why do you seem so troubled about them?"

Anya suppressed a shudder. "It does seem like a charmed life, doesn't it?" she mumbled, almost to herself. "Everything I could ever want or need, a wonderful adoptive parent. Not a care in the world." She lifted her violet eyes to Ciel's azure one.

"You're correct, my Lord. And I was happy, for a very long time. Then one day, I wasn't. A maid spilled hot tea on my arm. I was only six years old, so of course while I was very upset and hurt, I held no grudge." She paused as she heard an almost inaudible snicker resonating inside the Phantomhive butler.

"Sebastian." Ciel warned. Sebastian bowed his head in apology to them both and left the room, leaving the tea cart. "I'm terribly sorry. _It seems that my butler is forgetting his place. If he wishes to avoid making me angry, he will not insult you, our guest, again!" _Anya lifted one eyebrow, wondering why the Earl was enunciating so clearly when Sebastian had already left.

"You may continue, Anya." The girl gasped, and practically leaped out of her seat. "Oh, forgive me. I seem to be forgetting _my_ place."

"N-no, it's alright!" Anya stammered. "I actually prefer being called by my first name. It happens so rarely... it makes me very happy." She beamed at Ciel, who shrugged indifferently.

"Okay, then. Anya, you may continue." She nodded, and did as he said.

"Well, the next morning, the same maid turned up in the woods with no recollection of how she got there. On her return, she took one look at me, screamed, and fainted. There was no scar on my arm, either. When I had gone to sleep, it had hurt dreadfully, but when I awoke, there was no sign that I had been burned at all."

Anya tugged at her tight-fitting sleeves, remembering with discomfort the past events.

"Immediately, it was as if I wasn't the same little girl who the staff had known for all of her life. Not a single person besides Lord Rosenbloom would speak to me unless it was absolutely necessary. Even the Count seemed wary of me. Even Eugene…"

Anya mentally shook herself. She couldn't afford to think of her childhood friend _now_.

"I was so small then, there was no way I could have known why they avoided me so. Eventually, I overheard a gardener talking to a new kitchen hand."

Anya leaned forward and whispered, "He told the boy that I was a witch, a demoness! The entire estate thought that I had done something terrible to that poor maid, and were so scared of me that they had started to carry holy water and crucifixes around their necks!"

Ciel struggled to keep a straight face. _People can really be very stupid at times, _he mused. _Everyone loves Sebastian, a _real_ demon, and when one strange occurrence unfolds around an innocent child, they run for cover. _But Ciel couldn't voice his thoughts, so he simply nodded sympathetically.

"I tried so hard to make them see reason. I was only a child! But they were so rooted in their fear they would cross themselves and flee. I was-completely-a-alo-"

Ciel started. Was Anya- Lord forbid- _crying?_ Ciel did what any man faced with a hysterical lady does- he panicked. He knew how to handle Elizabeth's petty tears, but not a complete stranger's! Somewhat frantically, he pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and presented it to Anya with an over-the-top flourish. He was rewarded with a tearful smile and a small giggle.

"I'm sorry," he told her sincerely. "A lonely life is something a child should never have to endure. So is that why you left? To escape from the loneliness?"

Anya shifted her gaze to her lap, tugging at her sleeves again. "Yes, my Lord."

Ciel frowned. Something didn't quite fit. As he watched Anya fiddle with her ring, which he noticed –with equal amounts of confusion and amusement- was made from a flower, a knock came at the study door. "Enter."

Sebastian swept into the study, seemingly ignoring the fact that his master was upset and their guest was still somewhat in tears. "Young master, Miss Criel, I have come to apologize for my horrid behavior. To insult a guest is something a Phantomhive butler should never allow himself to do. Please, enjoy this small token of apology."

And without further ado, Sebastian brought forth the most delectably mouthwatering culinary masterpiece known to man or demon. Moist, warm chocolate cake topped with whipped chocolate icing (and, as Sebastian pointed out proudly, a touch of French vanilla) was sliced precisely by the ever-adroit butler, and in seconds each teen had a generous slice of cake placed on a plate in front of them.

Ciel _hmphed_, but dug into the sweet with abandon nonetheless, inviting Anya to do the same. She took a tentative taste, and let out a contented sigh.

"Wow" she breathed. "If I got cake every time someone insulted me, I wouldn't mind it so much. Laugh at me any time you like, Sebastian!" The overawed girl laughed openly and Sebastian thought that he liked Anya more and more every minute.

"Just for the record, does that mean that I am allowed to laugh at the icing on your nose?" Anya squeaked with embarrassment and laughed as the butler gave her a napkin.

"Oh my, that's embarrassing. I promise my table manners aren't normally this dreadful. That cake could bring out the worst in anyone!"

Ciel almost felt his lips turn up into a smile, and had to look away from Anya's face, as she was going cross-eyed trying to wipe the chocolate from her nose. Instead, he decided on the pattern on the lace of her sleeves, which he had just noticed were lightly embroidered with crisscrossing lines.

Ciel frowned and looked with a bit more scrutiny. The pattern was so irregular... And why was the embroidery only on one...? Ciel felt bile rise in his throat as realization dawned. Struggling to keep his tone nonchalant, he addressed his giggling guest.

"I hate to dredge up bitter memories over good cake, but did you not say that when the maid spilled tea on you the scar disappeared?"

Anya set down her napkin, confounded by his seemingly random inquiry. "Yes, my Lord. It vanished overnight."

"Well then," Ciel said coldly. "How _did_ your arm become so scarred?"

Anya froze with another forkful of the enticing dessert halfway to her lips. It clattered to her plate as her wrist was caught in a cold, iron grasp.

"Forgive me," Sebastian stated calmly. He then gently pushed the material of Anya's sleeve up to her elbow, taking great care not to let the fabric scratch at the half-healed scars lashing across the pale skin.

Anya jerked at her arm, an involuntary reflex. The butler's grip did not loosen. Panic bubbled up from the pit of Anya's stomach as she struggled against the butler.

"Sebastian, let go, please!" she pleaded. He said nothing, and only released her at Ciel's cry of, "By God, Sebastian! Can't you stop being melodramatic for five seconds? Unhand her before she passes out again!"

Chuckling darkly, the butler followed his orders and bowed out of the room once again.

Anya cradled her arm and glared after him. Although Sebastian had not injured her at all, she felt very wary of him now. The panic caused by his stone grip was, she knew, irrational, but it would take a long time for her to forget it.

And yet, something had been different about the butler in that moment. That something simultaneously had her scared stiff and made her head swim. An old phrase about a mouse caught in a viper's gaze surfaced in her mind. That was exactly the predatory feeling that had emanated from the strange butler. Anya was torn from her mental analysis by Ciel's impatient tone.

"Why didn't you say that you were injured? Even better, why didn't anyone know you were injured? One would think that when-"

Ciel abruptly halted his tirade. "Mey-rin?"

Anya, still upset and shamefaced, understood perfectly. "Yes, my Lord." she answered, cracking a small smile. "Although, I've never imagined someone being quite that farsighted." Ciel did not smile back.

"Tell me how this happened to you. This. Instant." Anya winced at his unfamiliar tone. They had been chatting amicably only moments ago, and this house had felt like home and family.

Heat rushed to Anya's face, but she wasn't embarrassed this time. No, this time Anya could feel herself growing steadily angrier; angry at Sebastian for frightening her, angry at Ciel for giving her the silent treatment, and furious with herself for thinking that she might have actually found some friends. Slamming her palms against the tablecloth, Anya half rose from her seat.

"You really want to know, _Lord_ Phantomhive?" Anya scoffed, her voice raised higher than the usual courteous level.

"Fine, then! I expect that you want to know every nasty thing the staff ever said to me. You'll want to know how terrified I was when I confronted them at diner to say that enough was enough, that I wasn't going to take it anymore. To know that the second I showed them anything but friendship, the instant that I became annoyed enough to speak my mind, they took it as animosity and feared for their lives."

"I suspect that you need to know _every last bloody detail_ of how the stable hands brought out their whips and lashed out at me, how the cooks threw their pots and pans, how the maids shrieked for me to be exorcized, and how they chased me away from the only home I ever knew! You absolutely need to know every single awful thing that has ever happened to me!"

Anya sat, breathing heavily. She waited for the Earl to scream, to tell her to leave his house and not let the door hit her on the way out.

Ciel sighed in exasperation. "Are you quite done?"

Tears of shame flooded Anya's eyes, and she struggled to hold them back. In a wavering voice she apologized to the Earl for her outburst.

"I am so sorry" she choked out. "I can't believe I lost my temper like that. You have been so hospitable, and I've been so dreadfully rude. I beg you, Lord Phantomhive, to forgive me."

Ciel nodded patiently. "Anya, I understand that you are distraught. Who wouldn't be, after your experiences? You were very brave to keep going like that." _And_, he added silently, _I think you were_ very _brave to not completely break down because of Sebastian. Grown men have withered under that gaze._

Anya laughed bitterly. "You understand? How could you? I find it hard to believe that you, my Lord, have had quite the experience I have."

The Earl smirked at that. "How much would you bet on it?"

Anya listened, horrified, as Ciel wove for her a tapestry of tragedy and sorrow, from his parents' deaths in a terrible fire, to his capture and torture, to his destroyed home all the way to his acceptance as head of the Phantomhive family. (Obviously, he left out the bits about demons and revenge.)

"Oh, come now. You held back while reliving your own torture, but a stranger's tale brings you to tears?"

And Anya was sobbing great, heartbreaking sobs. She buried her face in the borrowed handkerchief and her shoulders heaved with gasping sobs. "I-I'm so-s-sorry!"

"How stupid," Ciel growled out. "Why are you apologizing for crying? Being sad for another's misfortunes isn't a bad thing. It shows that you have compassion in your heart; a trait that, while unwise for me to harbor myself, I admire in others."

Anya lowered the handkerchief from her eyes, and slowly smiled. "I stand corrected. I think that you, my Lord, may understand more than I could ever imagine."

Ciel cursed himself. He hadn't meant to open up that much. He stood abruptly, feeling flustered and more than a little disgruntled. He slowly strode to the large paned study windows and clasped his hands behind his back.

From where Anya was sitting, she could barely make out a figure in the courtyard walking briskly toward the house. _I wonder if that's Finny,_ she wondered. However, she corrected herself as the figure glanced up toward the study. Just as the figure (whom Anya realized seemed to be Sebastian) fell from her line of sight, Ciel spoke again.

"Sebastian," he called softly. "Come here now, please." Immediately, the butler reentered the study. Anya leaped from her seat and nearly cried out. _Our God in heaven! Hadn't that been Sebastian in the courtyard? It couldn't have been; he would have had to all but teleport to the study door._

The young Lord gazed out the window once again as he addressed his faithful servant. "Sebastian, I see that Finnian has destroyed my garden once again."

"Yes, my Lord." Sebastian apologized. "I am planning on fixing it this afternoon."

"I also heard a crash downstairs earlier. What did Mey-rin break this time?"

"Two vases, a candelabra, and five feet of the main hall banister are ruined beyond repair." Sebastian replied instantly.

Ciel chuckled lightly. "Fix those, will you? And I suppose Bardroy still cannot cook without his flamethrower?"

"My Lord," Sebastian answered, also smiling. "I don't believe I could teach that man how to cook properly if you ordered me to."

Anya listened to the strange conversation in bewilderment. Watching these two laugh together about the lack of order in their home lifted her spirits considerably (and made her slightly less leery of Sebastian), but what did this have to do with anything? _How did the topic change to the destructive staff of the Phantomhive household?_ Still not looking at her, the young master directed his next comments at Anya.

"Anya, you don't have anywhere to go. Your parents are dead, your home is- well, you can't go there. You're all alone."

Anya grimaced in spite of herself. Hadn't she basically said that just a moment ago? Why was he rubbing it in her face?

"Yes, my lord."

Ciel smirked, amused by the girl's obvious restraint. She's actually annoyed, but in spite of her experiences, she has enough courtesy and patience to try and keep her composure.

"Of course, the name of Phantomhive would be forever shamed if I allowed a lady to leave without anyplace to call home. You haven't a family to care for you, but I speak on behalf of everyone living here that we would be delighted and honored for you to join ours."

Anya gripped the back of her chair, her knuckles white and her knees weak. Sebastian was instantly at her elbow in case she passed out... again. He pulled her chair out again and she thankfully sank into it. For a long time, she could not speak due to her absolute shock.

Ciel frowned. "Unless, of course, you wish to return to Count Rosenbloom?"

"No!" Anya blurted. Heat flooded to her face at her outburst. "I thank you for your amazing and generous offer, but I could never impose on your hospitality like that. If I'm going to keep going in life, I'll need to find a job... get a place to stay..."

Sebastian stepped forward and bowed to Ciel. "If I may, young master. I believe it would benefit us all if Miss Criel could hold a position here at the manor. After all," the butler flashed his most charming smile. "It does become rather tiresome, being the only staff member who can do any real work. This might be a welcome change."

"Would you?"

The butler and his master brought their attention back to the ecstatic girl. "Could I really work here? It wouldn't be too troublesome?" Anya felt her heart soaring. Working and living in this lovely home with such kind people seemed almost too good to be true. "Please, Lord Phantomhive. I'll take whatever position you could give me!"

Ciel, startled by her energetic outburst, looked to Sebastian for help. The butler only smirked and nodded his head. The Earl sighed, shaking his head at the both of them.

"Fine," he drawled, exasperated. "It seems I've been given no choice. You will start work tomorrow as Sebastian's assistant. As he is Head Butler, you will try your hand at all of the duties he performs every day. If we find that you hold a particular proclivity for any given area of work, it will become your specialization."

Ciel Phantomhive held out his hand to Anya Criel. "Welcome to your new home, Anya. I expect you to do your best."

Anya grinned as she bounded from her chair. She shook his hand vigorously and spoke her first words as a Phantomhive maid. "Yes, sir! I won't let you down!"

* * *

><p><strong>Well? Like it? Love it? Hate it as much as Ed hates milk? Even if you say yes to all three, I would appreciate NO FLAMETHROWERS. I mean flames. I write for fun and constructive criticism. Gotta love that feedback! Which is why...<strong>

**Okay. I am currently writing chapter two, but until a few _requirements_ are met, no more updates for me! They're very simple, really... Just tell me how you like it!**

**I reeeeaaallly like feedback, and stuff like this lets me know that people are actually reading. Until next time, the second (and third?) chapters will be mildewing away on my laptop.**

**In a mini-skirt,**

**Moony/Maya Koppori**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi, again! Thanks to the people who reviewed and subscribed! I know some characters are a little (or a lot) OOC, but hey, this is MY Fanfic.**

**Moony: That's rude. They're entitled to their own opinions. And don't be conceited. I helped write and co-edit.**

**... Shut up.**

**Moony: Maya Koppori does not own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler. If she did, she would make it unbearably cheesy and no one would read/watch/like it.**

**On with the show!**

* * *

><p>Anya silently followed Sebastian through the long corridors of the manor, their footsteps echoing on polished wood or muffled by the occasional rug. It was long past nightfall, but the new maid felt wide awake.<p>

_Well, I did sleep for nearly twenty-four hours. It's no wonder I feel so energized._

She supposed it could also be an effect of Sebastian's wonderful tea, but she tried not to think about that. There seemed nothing amiss about the butler at the moment, but Anya feared that could change at any moment. She still couldn't shake the ominous feeling she'd had in the study, when Sebastian's mood had changed so suddenly from "charming gentleman" to "vicious captor".

Anya stared mutely at the butler's back, wondering how someone who seemed so at home with kind people like Mey-rin and Lord Phantomhive (her young master, she realized with a small grin) could have instilled such terror in her.

"Ah, here we are." Sebastian stopped so suddenly that Anya crashed into him from behind. Anya stumbled over both her own feet and the butlers', and would have toppled to the floor if Sebastian hadn't caught her by the shoulder. As soon as she had her balance, she jerked out of his hold.

The butler looked surprised and more than a little annoyed.

"Please, Anya. Try to watch where you step. I stepped in on your behalf so we could have some new staff, not a facsimile of Mey-rin." Sebastian's voice was like ice. Anya wanted so badly (Oh, so badly!) to run away screaming, but she knew that nothing could be worse than returning to the Rosenbloom estate. Instead, she bowed her head in a reluctant apology.

"I'll try to be more careful, Mister Sebastian. However," she added. "I'm afraid that I cannot help the fact that you –forgive me for saying this- terrify me to no end."

This was the last response the butler would have expected. He had to carefully compose his features to keep his amusement from showing through. This little human girl was proving to be quite interesting. Sebastian wondered how far he could take this before she broke down. He would have to try to find out, wouldn't he?

"I suppose that's fair enough." Anya jumped. Her companion had gone from sharp-tongued to amicable in a matter of seconds.

"You must know, Anya," Sebastian continued as he opened a door and waved her through it. "I am very protective of the young master. If I appeared discourteous, I apologize profusely. It is merely the manner I have with those who may be suspect in harming him."

"Oh," Anya stammered, very confused by both the enigmatic butler and the room they had stepped in to. "If that was all… Er, Sebastian, where are we?"

Sebastian sighed heavily. "It does seem a bit excessive, doesn't it?"

Before the unlikely pair, there stood row upon row of racks stuffed with frilly, ruffled ensembles. They were as different from each other as possible, varying in color, design, and length. There was one word that described all of these dresses, however: _cute. _Sickeningly cute.

"The young master's fiancée, Lady Elizabeth, is very… _fond_ of cute things," the butler explained. "As she visits as often as she can, the young master has this room to meet her needs if she has to stay an extra day unexpectedly."

Anya stared, open-mouthed and appalled. Not because Lord Phantomhive was engaged at such a young age, but because one girl could be so astonishingly _girly_ that she had a _whole room_ dedicated to dresses!

Sebastian led Anya to the very back of the room, where one rack of clothes was shoved into the corner. On the rack was a mixture of men's work clothes and maid uniforms. Longing overtook Anya's shock, and she found herself wishing that she could go back to her tomboy days at the estate. Anya had been left to her own devices after the "Incident", so she hadn't had anyone to impress. At her request, the Count had allowed her to dress herself in a simple tunic and trousers most days. Her hopes were dashed when Sebastian selected a plain maid's dress from the rack.

"Here you are," Sebastian said, and handed her the dress. It had roughly the same make and design as Mey-rin's, but where her dress was dark blue, Anya's was a deep violet.

"We always have a few spares in here, in case there are any rips, tears, stains, fires, or gunfights involved in daily work." The butler smiled, and Anya took that to mean he was joking, although his every word rang with sincerity.

Sebastian gestured to an open door, through which Anya could see a small changing room. She stiffly nodded to the butler and went to change.

* * *

><p>The new maid squirmed in her new skirts as she followed Sebastian, yet again, through the dark corridors. The dress was very nice, certainly, but trousers were looking more and more favorable. <em>At least,<em> she conceded. _I didn't have to wear the hairpiece. It suits Mey-rin just fine, but accessories are where I draw the line._

Anya had argued this point with Sebastian for a good twenty minutes, although the butler was clearly out of his comfort zone with hair accessories. They eventually settled on a purple bow to match the dress. If only to herself, Anya had to admit that the colors seemed to make her unusual eyes (which she viewed as her best physical trait) stand out a bit more than usual. The dark purple complimented her brown hair rather nicely, in her opinion, but being stuffed into skirts for so long had made her very restless.

Back at the estate, the Count had only forced her to dress up for special dinners or coming-out parties; utter nonsense. Even a plain maid's uniform was far dressier than what Anya was used to wearing on a daily basis. The skirts were heavy and cumbersome, and the white apron tied around her waist did little to help this fact.

"At least you're not wearing one of the other outfits, eh?" Anya laughed. Sebastian couldn't have put it any better. Those monstrosities were far better suited to someone more feminine than she. Eventually they arrived at their destination, and all thoughts of clothes and hair flew out of her with a gasp. As Sebastian continued on without her, Anya lingered in the doorway, too awed and frightened to enter.

Sebastian sighed as he joined her surveying of the carnage around them. Blackened countertops were barely visible under the rubble and charcoal that coated both them and the floor. Anya sidestepped a few rocks and- _were those bones?_ Closer inspection proved them to be chicken bones, but that wasn't at all reassuring.

A hand suddenly popped out of a pile of rubble and grasped at her ankle. With a shriek, Anya scurried away, kicking at the grimy appendage with all of her might. Cowering behind Sebastian, she peeked around his outstretched arm as a figure began to rise from the dirt. She could hear it breathing in loud, raspy gasps. It straightened, and as it raised its face to theirs, a trembling Anya found herself face-to-face with-

A cook.

He was an extremely filthy cook, but obviously a chef all the same. The singed apron and toasted chef's hat were the biggest giveaways. The man swore as he tugged his ruined headwear from his crown, revealing a startling afro of smoking blond hair. He patted it down to the best of his ability, which honestly didn't do much.

"Bardroy, how many times do I have to tell you? NO flamethrowers in the kitchen."

"Get stuffed, Sebastian." The cook spat back. "What d'you know 'bout cookin', anyways?" Fire filled his eyes, so fueled he was by his passion.

"COOKING IS AN ART! AND ART MEANS EXPLOSIONS!"

Bardroy finally took enough time to glance at the stunned figure hiding behind Sebastian. "Oi. Who's this, then?"

The butler stood aside to allow Anya to introduce herself. Mortified for being frightened by the cook, Anya awkwardly explained that she had just been hired on the Phantomhive staff. The chef grinned and shook her hand good-naturedly, and Anya couldn't help but smile back.

"No kiddin? Well, it's good to meetcha and all, but wot's your job, exactly?"

"Well, I-"

"Anya doesn't yet have a particular task." Sebastian broke in. "I'm to give her a tour and help her find a job that suits her talents. Which is what I was doing, but, unfortunately, it seems I am now otherwise occupied with cleaning up after your pyrotechnics." The butler pressed a hand to his temple and sighed. Bardroy winked at Anya while Sebastian wasn't looking.

"Well, why don't I teach her how to cook?" the chef exclaimed, as if the thought had come from out of the blue. He threw an arm around Anya's shoulders and gave Sebastian a cheesy thumbs-up. "Looks like a right good kitchen hand to this chef!"

"Seeing as things couldn't possibly get any worse than they are right now, **(A/N Ha! Jinxed it!) **and I am going to be at this for a while, why don't you two try to start breakfast? Just something simple will do." The butler seemed to remember something as he walked away. Instantly he was back, directly in front of Anya and Bardroy, murder etched into his features. "AND NO FLAMETHROWERS."

His terrified charges nodded emphatically, afraid to speak to the nightmarish butler. Satisfied, Sebastian got to work, clearing rubble from the counters onto the floor. The chef and his interning assistant exchanged knowing looks and backed away slowly to the end of the kitchen that was still, well, a kitchen.

"…Darn philistine. No appreciation for true art. Or speedy cooking." Bardroy grumbled. Anya giggled, and the tense mood Sebastian had set evaporated.

"Is he always that… scary?" Anya asked half-jokingly. "He seemed civil enough when we met." Bardroy shrugged as he rummaged in the cupboard for some tools.

"Aw, old Sebastian's not anything to get worked up about. He just takes his job a little too seriously sometimes."

Anya frowned. "Old? How old is he, Mr. Bardroy?" The chef laughed and tossed her a spatula.

"First of all, the name's Bard. No misters or Bardroys allowed. Only Sebastian ever calls me that to my face. Also," he continued. "I really have no idea how old Sebastian is, but he acts like such a fussy nursemaid over the manor that it just makes him seem much older than me, or even Tanaka." Anya's non-recognition was written all over her face.

"Old Tanaka has served here since the young master's father was the 'young master'." Bard explained. "Too old to do much now except drink tea and give advice every once in a while. You'll meet him later."

Anya nodded her understanding.

"Well, Anya, it's three in the morning and we're wide awake. What d'you wanna learn how to cook?"

"Nothing en flambé!" Anya blurted without thinking. Bard laughed heartily.

"Oh, all right. With that sourpuss over there lurking about, I wouldn't get away with it anyways. How about something simple? Eggs and bacon sound good to you?"

Anya's mouth began to water. "That," she assured, "Would be perfect."

Bard gave her an impish grin. "Alright, but here's the deal; you get to taste your first attempts, but your final product will be the young master's breakfast!" Anya wailed at the cook's proposal, but had no choice to agree. She removed her cornflower ring from her finger and gently folded it into her apron pocket. Then she got to work.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Four hours and several burnt pieces of bacon later….<strong>_

* * *

><p>"It'll be fine, Anya. You caught on a lot quicker than I thought." Bard slid a plate of toast on the tray that held Anya's most recent attempt at breakfast. "I tried a bit of that last batch, and it wasn't half bad. Of course," he boasted. "Only a master like me could have taught you this much in a matter of hours, but you obviously have some talent for it. Cooking is all about improvising. When you couldn't manage sunny side up, for instance, it took ingenuity and creativity to think up scrambled eggs instead."<p>

Anya only heard bits of the chef's monologue. She was too nervous to concentrate. This was the first time she had ever cooked for anyone, even if it was only bacon and eggs. She had tasted enough of her previous attempts to know that she had improved quite a bit, but negative thoughts still swirled around in her head. _What if the young master liked the eggs more runny; the bacon crispier; did he even like eggs in general? _She almost wished that Sebastian was there so she could ask him, but he had disappeared after miraculously cleaning and repairing the kitchen alone.

Her troubled thoughts were interrupted by the clumsy whirlwind that was Mey-rin crashing into the kitchen. Narrowly avoiding knocking over a rack of spices, the bespectacled maid stumbled her way across the kitchen to Anya and Bard.

"Good morning, it is! Bard, Anya!" she greeted cheerily. "The young master is will take his breakfast in the dining room now." She held out her hands for Anya to give her the tray, but Anya hesitated. She had poured her heart into making this food, and she wasn't ready to let go of it just yet.

Bard shook his head at Mey-rin and said nostalgically, "Let 'er be, 'Rin. I remember my first breakfast. Almost didn't let the young master have the plate, I didn't. Go on, Anya. You might as well learn all the tricks of the trade, eh? You can take the food yourself, if you like."

Anya shot him a grateful glance and exited the kitchen to the sounds of Mey-rin sampling one of the more, um, _interesting_ platters of eggs. It took her a full minute of wandering aimlessly through the halls to realize that she had completely forgotten where the dining room was located. Just as she began to panic that the food would get cold before she found her way, someone tapped Anya's shoulder from behind.

Normally, she would have whirled around to face whoever was behind her, but now Anya was very mindful of the tray in her arms. She was also getting unsettlingly accustomed to the dark presence lingering through the household. Slowly turning, she calmly addressed the figure behind her.

"Sebastian," she asked. "Before you say something sarcastic and make me want to stuff this toast down your throat, could you please help me find my way to the dining room?"

The butler smirked at her hostile civility. He hadn't thought her capable of such cheek. "But of course." He gestured down the hall to a door on the right hand side. Leading the way, he opened the door for her to go in ahead of him.

The room was taken up by an enormous wooden table covered with a spotless white tablecloth. The only chair currently in use was at the head of the table, occupied by Ciel Phantomhive himself. The fixed smile that Anya had prepared melted into a sincere grin, and she entered with the tray.

"Good morning, my lord," she greeted as she placed the tray in front of him. Sebastian was right behind her, serving tea. "Did you sleep well?" Ciel glanced up at her with a small smile before beginning his breakfast.

"I did, thank you. I see you're starting to try your hand at various tasks. Has anything jumped out at you yet?" Anya thought for a moment. While cooking with Bard had been both fun and a learning experience, it didn't seem like the thing that she would want to do every single day. She wasn't sure she could even manage anything past simple breakfast items.

"Nothing has really felt right yet, my lord. I'll keep trying."

Ciel nodded absentmindedly as he contemplated his eggs. "These aren't quite what I'm used to, but they're surprisingly good. And, well, not charcoal." Ciel smiled wistfully. "It reminds me of when I was younger… I used to eat this for breakfast every other day, it seems." He looked to his butler questioningly. "Did you make these, Sebastian? There's no way this is Bard's work."

Anya swelled with pride. This was _her_ work the young master was praising! Her hard work had paid off. Anya watched Sebastian closely, waiting for him to tell Lord Phantomhive that she, a first-time cook, had stayed up all night learning how to work in the kitchen and had made this meal.

"I apologize if it is not to your tastes, but I thought that perhaps simple home cooking would be a nice change of pace." The butler's tone was tender, but his eyes taunted Anya across the table, stabbing daggers of spite straight through her heart. _He's really that low, to take credit for my work. _Anya fumed silently. Luckily, her better judgment took hold, and she held her tongue. _After all,_ she reasoned, _serving isn't a contest. His job and mine is to make the young master's life as easy and comfortable as possible_.

Anya sent her own eye-message to Sebastian: "I'm not rising to your bait. I don't care what you do." The butler's smirk vanished. He had obviously expected her to fight back and humiliate herself in front of the young master. She couldn't find words to describe the surge of victory over not giving Sebastian the satisfaction of being right.

Glaring, the butler answered a question that Ciel had asked and Anya had not heard due to her mental raging. "I believe he is raking leaves in the garden, sir."

"Right, then," said Ciel with finality. "Sebastian, escort Anya to the garden immediately, and then return here." He glanced up at Anya again. "Finian will need some help, raking the garden all on his own. I want you to see what you can do in respect to plants and trees. Who knows? You might find your calling outside in the garden." He stared at Anya until she realized that she had been dismissed. Bobbing a short curtsy, Anya replied, "Of course, my lord." Sebastian led her out of the dining room.

* * *

><p>Anya was very careful not to say anything to Sebastian as he once again acted as her guide. She feared that if either of them spoke, it would turn into a full-scale argument. Her curiosity, however, was piqued when she found herself back in the "Dresses Room".<p>

"Sebastian?" Anya questioned. "Why are we-?"

"You didn't think you would get any yard work done in that get-up, did you?" the butler replied snidely. He pulled –thank heavens!- a loose tunic and a pair of trousers from the rack, and tossed them over his shoulder at her. He half led, half pushed her into the changing room.

"Change quickly," Sebastian instructed curtly. "I must return to assist the young master as soon as possible." Anya huffed as he closed the door on her. He may have frightened and upset her before, but now Anya realized that Sebastian was just another person trying his best to do his job well. He could be infuriating at times, but everything he did held his young lord's best interests in mind.

_At least I'm wearing real clothes again, _Anya rejoiced, banishing the surly butler from her thoughts. _And I'm finally going to meet this mysterious gardener! _She carefully extracted the flower ring from the apron she had removed, and put it in its rightful place on her ring finger. It wouldn't last much longer, Anya knew, but it was reassuring to have the ring on her hand again. Like a greeting from an old friend.

* * *

><p>The Rosenbloom manor was quite large for a residential home, and the surrounding grounds were even bigger. It had taken Anya months after the "Incident" to explore the entire garden inch by inch; tree by tree. The Phantomhive estate was at least twice as large, and five times more interesting. One corner of the garden was taken up by some gravel and sparse, bare trees; a Japanese rock garden. Another section was like a jungle, it had so many exotic plants. There was an inordinate amount of earth taken up by luminous white roses. Beyond the roses there stood a whole forest of red, orange, and yellow trees. And from somewhere behind a hedge, there came the sounds of joyous laughter.<p>

Sebastian had merely shown her to the back door leading outside to the garden before hurrying to his master's side, so Anya followed the laughter by herself. She followed the hedge, looking for the end, for a corner to go around. Too late, she whirled around, only to find herself completely lost in a hedge maze. Clenching her left hand tightly around her ring, Anya fought back her panic. She hated not knowing where she was, and not being able to see where she was going.

The laughter continued farther into the maze. It played through the chill autumn wind, teasing Anya's hair from her face. Suddenly enchanted by her beautiful surroundings, the rising panic dissipated and Anya let herself follow the laughter. She soon turned a corner into the center of the maze, and she gasped, transfixed.

In the center of the maze was a large circular glade. The high hedge walls blocked out all signs of the world beyond, making it seem as if this small piece of paradise was the whole universe. A small grove of trees, currently undergoing the transition from summer greens to fiery fall hues, surrounded a small pond in the dead center of the circle. A mother duck and her ducklings quacked and squawked as they paddled around in the clear water. And, crouched at the edge of the pond and throwing bread to the ducks, was a heartily laughing young man.

The boy chucked an especially large chunk of bread into the pond, but hit the mama duck by accident. The birds scattered, and the boy leaped to his feet.

"Come back, birdies!" he called apologetically. "It was an accident. I have more bread!" It was no use. The ducks were long gone. Sighing, he turned to go back to raking, and found Anya blocking his way. His solemn face split into a wide grin at the sight of her as he ran to greet her.

"Yay!" he cried, jumping around crazily. "The lady woke up! I _told_ Mey-rin my flowers would help!" He pulled Anya into a bear hug, crushing all of the breath from her lungs. He stood half a head taller than her and for a minute all Anya could see was the boy's straw-blond hair. When he finally released her, their eyes met fully for the first time. At first Anya couldn't comprehend what she was seeing; twin pools of clear green. This boy's eyes looked like they were made from sea glass; completely clear and transparent. It offered a sense of honesty to his features.

"Finny?" she ventured. The boy blinked, and then grinned again.

"You know who I am?" Finny asked, scratching the back of his neck bashfully. Anya smiled warmly back at him. It was as if she _did_ know him, if only through his past actions. She wordlessly held up her left hand and pointed at her cornflower ring. Finny clasped his hands together in delight.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. "So pretty! How did you do that?"

"Mey-rin made it from the flowers you brought while I was asleep," Anya answered. "Thank you, by the way. They were beautiful. Did you grow them here, in the garden?"

Finny nodded vigorously. "Usually I'm not very good at growing pretty little things like that, but Sebastian taught me how, and we have a greenhouse, so I could practice taking care of flowers even when the weather turns cold, and they look sooooo nice when-!" He suddenly broke off and smacked his forehead.

"Here I am babbling like a brook, and I haven't even met you properly yet!" The gardener hung his head in shame. Anya giggled at the sight of his tormented look.

"It's alright, really," she assured him, and held out her hand to shake. "My name's Anya. Sebastian gave me a job, but I'm still trying to find out what it is. He told me to come out here and help you rake up the leaves."

Finny shook her hand gently, as if it was made of glass. "Well, you already know my name. I'm Finian, but you can call me Finny. Everyone does." He hesitated, staring down at his shoes. "Anya… when I, uh, hugged you a minute ago… I'm really sorry! I was just happy to see you awake, and so I just wondered if I, erm…"

"If you what?" Anya was confused, yet highly amused. Did this boy think that he had embarrassed her? Made her uncomfortable? She glanced at their still entwined hands, and Finny flushed at the fact that he had forgotten to let go. Looking more uncomfortable than ever, his words all came out in a jumbled rush.

"Did I hurt you at all?" he blurted.

"Of course not," Anya exclaimed. She gripped his arm as he tried to turn away from her. "How could you have hurt me?" Finny looked relieved. His tense arm muscles gradually relaxed under Anya's touch, and he took her hand again to lead her back to the garden.

"You see," he explained as they wound their way back through the maze. "I'm really very strong. Sometimes I forget my own strengths; get excited. When I first began work here, I could hardly pick things up without breaking them. I'm getting better at controlling it, but I was afraid I might have gotten caught up in the moment."

They had made it back to the main garden. Anya started laughing, unable to control herself.

"I'm sorry," she wheezed, trying to catch her breath. "Just, I don't think- you could hurt _anyone-_ but you were- so _upset_ about it. All you did was knock the wind out of me." Anya grinned up at him. "Are you sure you're really that strong? It seems a little unreal."

Unfortunately, her attempts to cheer Finny up fell on deaf ears. Completely solemn, Finny released his grip on Anya's hand. He walked a few pieces away, and picked up a good-sized rock. Nothing special; just a smooth brown stone about the size and weight of a newborn baby. Finny stared at it for a moment, weighing it in his hand. Without any apparent effort, he threw the rock at one of the garden's walls. It smashed straight through the wall, sending bricks and dust flying.

"The doctors made me this way." Anya wasn't sure whether to shy away from Finny's dead tone or hug him tight. "They kept me locked up. They never let me go outside. When they gave me the shots, my insides turned to fire and ice all at the same time. My body was worked and re-worked like metal until it was stronger than diamond. I had no control of my strength anymore; I still don't have much now." Finny continued sadly as he began putting large bricks back in place. Anya jumped in to help, fetching some of the lighter chunks of rock for the gardener to replace.

"You seem well in control to me," Anya risked tentatively. "You're underestimating your own restraint." As she passed him some bricks, Finny turned to her with tears in his eyes.

"I didn't think I would have trouble controlling it, either," he choked out. "When they had me locked up, there was a window at the very top of my room. Every day, a little bird would come to perch on the windowsill." Finny put the final brick back in place. It would need some mortar later, but this was a good temporary fix.

"That bird was the only friend I had. One day, it finally flew down into the room. I reached out my hand, and it actually flew to me. I was so happy, I reached out to pat its head. That one small move killed the bird instantly. When the doctors came, they had to pry the bird's body away from me. It had been my hope, my hope of getting outside and escaping, but I had killed it."

Finny clenched his fists. "I had pretty much given up when Sebastian found me. I accidentally killed the doctors when they tried to hold me down, so I started running. I bumped right into Sebastian. He offered me a job with pay and holiday. I told him I just wanted to be outside in the sun."

Anya lost it. Crossing the distance between them in a few short strides, she flung her arms around Finny's neck and buried her face in his warm wool jacket. She didn't care that the older boy flailed awkwardly, caught off guard. She knew it didn't matter that the tears streaming down her face were absolutely soaking Finny. What mattered was that Anya simply needed a hug. (And at the moment, so did Finny.) The events of the past few days had finally caught up with her, and the stress was traumatizing her. Add that to her ability to relate so completely to Finny's experiences of being alone, and Anya was nearing her breaking point.

Slowly, carefully, the gardener returned the embrace. He gingerly patted the top of her head and murmured that everything was okay, and that if she needed to cry, that was fine, too. They stood like that for a while; Anya letting out all of her frustration and sadness, and Finny reciprocating those feelings from his own. Anya finally pulled away, wiping at her face with the heels of her hands. Finny grinned down at her.

"All better?" he asked, ruffling her hair playfully. Anya hiccupped, but nodded gratefully. She stared into his open face for a minute, deliberating. Making up her mind, she took a breath.

"You didn't give up, either."

Finny frowned at the cryptic statement. "What do you mean?"

Anya flushed, and stared at her shoes. She kicked some leaves around before replying.

"Well," she started. "I was alone a lot too, for a long time. At home, people are scared of me. I had one friend… but he got scared of me, too." Anya cringed at the memory. Eugene had defended her until he saw that her scar had disappeared. Then he came up with the theory that his good friend had been possessed by an evil demon. He probably _still_ believed that.

"But anyway, what I meant was that I always had… hope, I guess it was. Hope that I could get away from all that. You had it too. You said you killed it when you killed your little bird friend; I don't think it ever left you. You just don't seem like the type who has given up on hope."

Anya took Finny's hand again. "You will always have hope," she whispered. "I can see it in you." Finny's grin widened again. He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Well," he stated boldly. "I can see it in you, too. So when you need hope, you come to me. When I need hope, I'll come to you."

Anya gave him a small smile. "That's what friends do, isn't it?"

Finny winked in response. "So, Friend, shall we get to raking?" Anya threw him a cheeky salute.

"Very well! Come on, let's play!" The gardener ran towards the trees with Anya following close behind.

"Wait!" she cried, laughing as she ran. "Weren't you just saying we were going to work on the garden?"

Finny chuckled and came to a stop at the edge of large field of grass in front of the miniature forest. Two rakes stood propped up against a tree.

"Of course," Finny told her as he handed her a rake. "Working in the garden is only fun when you make it a game, you see?"

Anya understood that well enough, but…

"But why were there already two rakes?"

Finny laughed in the middle of pulling his gloves from his pocket. He had removed them to feed the ducks, but the fall weather was finally affecting him. He also grabbed his spare gloves from the brim of his straw hatand tossed them to Anya.

"I always bring two," he explained sheepishly. "It saves me the trouble of going back to the toolshed if the rake snaps." Anya found this extremely humorous for some reason. As Finny joined in her laughter, Anya began to slip the gloves over her fingers, and remembered the ring. It had been her anchor and solace through her introduction to this strange new life, and a reminder of a potential friend. Watching Finny chase his hat, which the wind had torn away from him, Anya let the small token float away on the breeze. She didn't need it anymore.

* * *

><p>Sebastian and Ciel stood watching at the dining room windows. Both were amused greatly by how well the gardener and the new maid were getting along. Ciel even allowed himself a small smile as the two staff members chased each other around the garden, rakes flailing madly.<p>

"You desired to speak with me, my lord?" Sebastian queried. Ciel turned from the window to face his butler. His face was frozen in helpless anger.

"Sebastian, I have ordered you not to ever lie to me."

The butler bowed. "Of course," he replied smoothly. "I am the young master's faithful servant. I never lie."

"You didn't cook that breakfast." It wasn't a question.

Sebastian smirked at his master's cunning. "No, my lord."

Ciel growled in frustration. "Oh. I suppose you never actually said that you had made it, did you?" he mumbled. "Foul demon. What did you have to gain from that ridiculous venture?"

"The task of a Phantomhive servant is to keep the manor and its grounds in order. My job consists of that, and the even greater task of ensuring your safety. No member of the staff is to be employed here merely for their own gain. They must always put the young master's wellbeing and happiness first."

Ciel sighed. "It was a test, then. I can't disapprove, but no more for Anya. She's endured enough these past days, and has proved herself capable in many areas of work. You will be as civil to her as the others have been. Do you understand, Sebastian? _**That is an order**_."

"Yes, my lord."

Ciel slumped into his chair, suddenly feeling exhausted. Why was every member of his household so difficult? If it wasn't the three stooges causing trouble, it was Sebastian making mischief. If it wasn't Sebastian, it was soaking wet children showing up in the dead of night.

"My lord?" Sebastian purred. "I didn't want to bring this up at breakfast, but now that we're alone…" The butler reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a crisp new envelope with a glossy, red seal. "This arrived just this morning. It's from _her._"

Ciel was now completely alert. He all but tore the letter from Sebastian's hand. Ripping open the envelope, he quickly scanned the page of Her Majesty's cramped, loopy writing.

"The Undertaker was right," he murmured. "He always is."

Ciel glanced sideways at his butler and protector. Sebastian was pretending not to read the letter over his master's shoulder. Ciel ignored it.

"Sebastian," he ordered, already standing. "Prepare to leave for London at once. Her Majesty wants me to clean up after a few mercenaries in the area. And," he added as an afterthought, "I think I might fancy a short visit to Scotland Yard while we're there."

Sebastian was brought up short. He had been about to leave and prepare, but now his curiosity was aroused. "May I ask why, my lord? I was under the impression that you and the Yard did not get along very well."

Ciel grimaced, flustered. "I am simply curious about the case Anya presented us with. It is highly unusual for such a stubborn lot of Englishmen to let even a small case go without resolution." Ciel was trying his best to seem impassive, but Sebastian could tell just how much this was bothering his young master.

"You do realize, of course," he admonished. "That this means we will be leaving the five of them _alone_, in the _manor_, for quite some time."

Ciel smirked. "Of course. Your new assistant has proven quite capable of keeping our staff in check. Breakfast was edible and pleasantly devoid of flamethrowers. Mey-rin is so distracted by another female in the household that she doesn't try to carry more than two things at a time. And Finny actually got the raking done." He gestured out the window. Sebastian looked and nearly gasped.

There were two neat piles of leaves stacked against the garden wall. Both Anya and Finny were leaning on their rakes, admiring their work. Finny's rake abruptly broke in half, and the clumsy boy fell onto the grass, flailing his arms wildly. As Sebastian and Ciel watched, Anya rushed to his side. Seeing that he had only bruised his pride and his rear, Finny laughed uncontrollably. Anya giggled and tried to help him up, but Finny's inhuman strength pulled her to the ground with him.

The awkward tumble soon turned into a battle of flying leaves; Finny sticking leaves in Anya's hair, and Anya shoving fistfuls of them into Finny's hat. Even with bunches of leaves flying this way and that, the garden looked magnificent. Even Sebastian had to admit that.

"Very well," the butler conceded. "I suppose the manor will be in capable hands for a few days."

"Sebastian," Ciel jibed. "I can't believe you. You're an extremely powerful demon, and yet you fuss over the household like- like a nursemaid!" Sebastian cringed as his master echoed Bardroy's earlier statement. Ciel turned back to the window, only to see Anya and Finny retreating indoors from the cold wind, picking leaves from their clothes and hair.

"Start preparing," Ciel ordered. "Then gather up the staff to let them know that we'll be gone for a while." Ciel waited to be acknowledged. "Sebastian?" He faced the other direction, only to find himself talking to the empty air. On the table in front of him was a small card. In precise, elegant script were the words Yes, my lord.

Ciel sighed. "At least let me finish a sentence, you demon."

* * *

><p><strong>Well... that took all of five days to write. I kept checking my email constantly to see if I had any happy readers. I think I'll just put the next chapter up as soon it's done, okay? I get impatient very quickly.<strong>

**Moony: You don't say...**

**Shut _up,_ Moony! you're just saying that because I uploaded this to the document manager as soon as we edited it!**

**Moony: I rest my case. Don't make your friends or any stranger who _actually reads_ your crap wait next time, alright? I'll give you a cookie~**

**COOKIE! Fine. Back to the writing board! Until next time, Fanfictioneers!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi again, everyone! I am SO sorry for not updating in a while! I've been A) Banned from my laptop and writing in secret in the dark hours of the night. B) Swamped with Algebra II homework. C) Preparing to march with the Dobyns-Bennett High School Band in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.**

**Moony: D) All of the above?**

**Quite right, my loony-Moony! We are departing for New York at 6, which means be there at 5, get up at 4. And it is now... 11:30. Fail. I started this chapter one way, had a dream, changed it. You all know the drill by now^^ In the words of my favorite childrens book character from age six... ONWARD!**

* * *

><p>Sebastian lifted the heavy baggage onto the top of the carriage without any trouble. The thing troubling him was the fact that the young master had become very strange over the past two days. The butler had never seen Ciel smile so much or so genuinely. Sebastian had even caught him chuckling as he watched Finian and Anya at work in the garden. <em>What has the world come to?<em>

With further thought, Sebastian realized that it was not only the Earl who had been acting strangely. Nothing had been broken, burned, or bruised all day. It was as if the entire staff had finally taken a page from Tanaka's book and settled down for a while. Sebastian could only hope that the peace would last until he and the young master returned from London. Speaking of…

The butler fastened the last harness on the carriage horses, preparing to return to the house. The dappled gray mares shied away from him, frightened. Sebastian crooned to them, making the comforting nickering noises of a mother horse to her foal.

Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he slipped his gloved fingers into his pocket, drawing out two small sugar cubes. He held one out to each mare, and they hesitantly accepted them.

Sebastian allowed himself a small smile. _Horses are really quite elegant creatures, _he mused. _Although not nearly as graceful as a cat, they are regal in their own respect. They are simply too trusting, bought so easily by a cube of sugar. _As he led the horses to the stable post, the first mare gently nudged her nose against his pocket.

"I don't have any more sugar at the moment," the butler quipped. "So stop trying to brownnose me." The horse stopped her search, but continued to nuzzle Sebastian's back.

"Foolish creature," he murmured. "You'll get killed like that, trusting anyone who happens to treat you with a bit of kindness." Turning his thoughts to more practical matters, the equestrian-to-be loosely draped the reins over the post and ventured back to the manor to give the staff the informative meeting the master had ordered.

* * *

><p>Sebastian had successfully requested the presence of most of the staff. Bardroy was pulled away from his salad tossing, Mey-rin from folding linens. He had just spotted Finian and Tanaka sitting together in the library and drinking hot tea.<p>

"Mr. Tanaka," he called lightly, so as not to startle the old man. "Could you and Finian please make your way to the entrance hall? The young master requests a meeting of the staff."

As Sebastian drew closer, he recognized the aroma in the steam drifting from the pair's mugs. _Chamomile._

"Mr. Tanaka," the butler queried, genuinely confused. "Were the chamomile leaves not on the top shelf in the pantry? How did you reach them?" The top shelves of the pantry were reserved for the more rare and expensive herbs and teas. They were so high off the ground, only the Phantomhive butler was able to reach them without a ladder.

This usually involved a series of flamboyant flips and jumps, and Sebastian was positive that neither of the men sitting before him could have achieved it.

"Oh ho ho!" the old man laughed. Sebastian resisted the urge to smack a hand to his forehead. Even with the most restorative tea the Phantomhives could attain, Tanaka still could not maintain enough stamina to form coherent sentences.

"Well," Finny interjected. "When me and Anya finished raking, we came inside and found Mr. Tanaka lying on the ground. I don't think cold weather is good for his joints." Sebastian cocked an eyebrow.

"Okay, Anya explained that to me. Anyway, I told Anya about the tea, because I knew this kind helps him the most. We put him on the library sofa, and we went to the pantry to get the chamomile." Finny took another sip of his tea.

"Wow, this is pretty good!" Finny exclaimed, only to be glared down by an increasingly testy butler. "But moving on... Neither me or Anya could reach the tea leaves, and you weren't around, so-"

"What did you do to my pantry?" Sebastian snarled. He knew that the end of this story could not be a good one.

"Nothing!" Finny protested. "I swear! I just threw Anya up to the top shelf and she grabbed the tea and I caught her, that's all!"

Finny clenched his eyes shut, waiting for a fierce rebuttal from Sebastian. It never came. The frightened gardener heard only a slight, strangled cough. Finian opened his eyes and had to blink several times to be certain he was really seeing Sebastian-_Sebastian_!- struggling to hold back laughter behind a gloved hand. Finny, for some reason unbeknown to him, began blushing profusely.

"You threw her?" Sebastian chuckled. "You _threw _her?" The notion was so ridiculous that the normally stoic butler's sides would be aching if he were human. "How exactly did the two of you come up with _that_ solution?"

Finny glared at Sebastian, silently willing him to Stop. Laughing. But his last comment had struck a small chord with Finny. How had he and Anya come up with him _throwing her into the air to get some tea?_

**Flashback**

"**Mr. Tanaka!" Finny cried, rushing to the side of the gentleman sprawled on the polished floor. Anya was right on his heels. She knelt down and checked Tanaka for injuries. A sigh of relief escaped her as she found that he was breathing and seemed unhurt.**

"**Mr. Tanaka?" she ventured. "Can you hear me?" The poor man's eyelids fluttered and eventually opened. He didn't appear to understand what was going on.**

"**Oh… ho… ho?" he whispered. Finny nodded emphatically.**

"**Yes sir. This is Anya, the girl Sebastian and the young master found." He glanced apologetically at his friend, realizing that he had made her sound like a stray puppy. Anya gave him a look that read, "It's okay, just focus on what's important please."**

**Together, they lifted Tanaka and deposited him onto the fluffy sofa in the library. To Anya's great confusion, Finny suggested that they find some tea, and quickly.**

"**Tea always helps Tanaka feel lots better," Finny explained. "Especially chamomile tea. That's his favorite."**

**Anya nodded her understanding. "Chamomile is wonderful for sore joints in cold weather. Cook always…"she trailed off, suddenly reluctant to bring up any more memories. "Never mind. Where can we find tea?"**

"**The pantry," Finny answered automatically. "But the chamomile is on the top shelf… only Sebastian can reach it."**

**Anya scoffed. "That sourpuss? I'm sure we can at least manage to make some tea without his help!" **

**A few minutes later, in the pantry.**

"**There is no way I can reach that tea," Anya fumed, jumping up and down with no results. The shelf was at least fifteen feet above her head; an impossible distance. There were no ladders or butlers in sight.**

"**Come to think of it, I wonder how Sebastian can reach that high," Finny mused. "He isn't nearly tall enough, but I've never seen him bring a ladder in here." He wiped the thoughts from his mind. All that mattered now was to get the tea for Tanaka. No matter what.**

"**If we had, I don't know, rope or something…" Anya sighed. "But we don't, and if we threw anything else up there, it would make everything smash to the floor." She slumped against the wall opposite the tall shelves. "It's a no-win scenario. There isn't any way to reach that shelf!"**

**Finny frowned, deep in thought. He crouched down in front of Anya, trying to look her in the eyes. "Maybe we're going about this the wrong way," he suggested. "The normal ways obviously won't work in this situation, so let's find a more creative way."**

**The unbidden memories of lessons came flowing through Anya's mind. Each of her instructors had always had saying which they would reiterate at the conclusion of each lesson. Her strict math teacher had believed that "practice makes permanent." The history instructor had told her to "learn from the past, lest it repeat itself."**

**These clichés had been drilled into her head every day from age three to twelve, and she remembered them all perfectly. Her favorite saying, however, had only been spoken once, and had not come from an instructor, but Eugene, the stable boy and her best friend.**

_**Two months after the "Incident" just after her seventh birthday, she had run to the stables, crying because the maids were calling her a witch, along with other cruel things. Eugene had comforted her as he would a skittish horse, patting the back of her neck and stroking her hair, whispering soothing words of encouragement. **_

_**When he had finally calmed her down, he led her out to a henhouse behind the stables. A mother hen had taken refuge in the loft of the enormous structure, and refused to come down for anything. She hadn't even come down to eat from the trough. Eugene had turned to Anya with a sad frown marring his eleven-year-old face and begged for her help. **_

_**After half an hour, the hen still wouldn't budge. Eugene had completely given up, but Anya suddenly had an idea. If the hen wouldn't come to the food, she reasoned, they could bring food to the hen.**_

_**She and Eugene took turns throwing handfuls of chickenfeed into the loft until the hen clucked happily, a very full hen indeed. Eugene had praised her creativity. Later, Anya accused him of already thinking of the idea and letting her suggest it first to make her feel better. At the moment, however, it had just felt good to help her friend and not give up. **_

_**Eugene told her that the "Incident" was just a setback, and everyone would forget it in a little while. Anya had bitterly quipped that setbacks were just that, and after one it was nearly impossible to catch back up. Eugene had taken her hand, looked her in the eye, and said, "Anya Criel, no setback will ever set you back."**_

**Tears fought to pour from Anya's eyes as she sat in the pantry. It was then that she decided. This was her home now, and her family was here, not Rosenbloom estate. There was no denying that the Count, her instructors, Eugene, Cook, and all the rest had shaped her childhood. She even welcomed their wisdom and advice. **

**She would not, however, welcome any painful memories of them. They were banished from her mind. She turned her thoughts to the task at hand. She had enough to think about with this tea dilemma without foolish hens invading her thoughts…**

"**That's it!" Anya laughed.**

**Finny jumped slightly. "Er, what's it? Did you think of a way to get the tea?"**

**Anya leapt to her feet, her brain buzzing. "Neither of us can reach that tea on our own. We couldn't get close even if I stood on your shoulders. If the tea can't come to us, we'll have to go to the tea!"**

**Finny was now both confused and a little worried for his friend's sanity. "Didn't you just say that we couldn't get to the tea?"**

"**We can't. Not on our own, in any case. But with your help, I could." Anya's eyes shone with determination. "Finny, have you ever thrown a person before?"**

**Finny blanched. He must have misheard. "Thrown… a… person?" Anya nodded. "You're serious?" Another nod. "Um… How?" **

**For the first time, Anya looked uncertain. "Just… pick me up?" How was she supposed to know? Weren't boys supposed to know how to throw things? 'Things' included people, right?**

"…**Okay?" Finny gingerly moved to stand behind Anya. Being very, very careful not to let his emotions get the best of him, he grasped Anya's waist and counted to three. "Ready? One. Two. Three!" With a moderate amount of pressure, Finny lifted upward. Anya flew into the air at an alarming rate, and Finny was relieved when she didn't hit the ceiling. **

**Just as Anya grabbed the box of chamomile, Finny realized with a start of panic that Anya was, of course, going to come back down. He reached out his arms just in time, and with a breathless 'oof', he caught Anya bridal style. **

**Anya gazed up at him, cheeks rosy with exhilaration. She had been silent during her flight, and completely focused on her objective, but that wasn't enough to take away from the feeling of weightlessness as she had shot up into the air. It stirred something within her, some emotion that wasn't airsickness at all. Anya had to admit her slight worry as she had descended, but her doubts were ephemeral, and proved inconsequential as she landed in Finny's arms. **

"**Did you have fun?" Finny joked as he lowered Anya safely to the ground. "You didn't say a word. I would have screamed my lungs out."**

**Anya's face split into the widest grin Finny had ever seen. "Of course I did," she gushed. "That was the most fun I've had in ages!" She clutched the tea tin closer to her chest, twirling in dizzy circles. "It was just like flying!" **

**Finny watched his friend laugh and spin, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. She was so enthusiastic about everything, from the heaviest task to the fact that the sky was darker blue in the east than the west. There was a word for that; innocence. It brightened the gloomy room, and Finny was certain that he had found a great friend in Anya.**

"**Now we just need to make this tea for Mr. Tanaka. The kitchen is this way, isn't it?" She walked out of the pantry and turned left. Finny laughed and grabbed her hand, leading her in the right direction.**

**Finny saw Anya's shameful grimace and stopped laughing. "Don't worry," he assured her. "You'll figure out where things are eventually. It took me weeks just to remember how to get to my room!" When Anya still looked downcast, Finny tried a different tactic. "It really is alright, Anya. Just think of this as, I don't know, a setback." He was oblivious to Anya's reaction to his choice of words.**

"**But setbacks… they set you back, don't they?" Anya's question was barely a whisper, as faint as the long gone conversation with Eugene. The answer, however, was vibrant and reborn.**

"**Anya Criel," Finny answered sincerely. "I don't think you would let any setback set you back." **

**End of Flashback**

Finny pondered over Anya's expression when he spoke those words. It was as if she'd seen a ghost. He was wrenched back to reality as Sebastian regained control of himself. The butler once again asked Finny and Tanaka to report to the entrance hall as soon as possible.

"And where _is_ my assistant?" Sebastian asked irritably. "Surely she didn't just take off on her own to get lost again. Do you know how long it could take to locate her?"

"She went to change back into her dress," Finny said. "I told her that she should stay with us and have some tea, but she wanted to find Mey-rin and learn more about her duties." Sebastian actually felt a little approval at this statement. If Anya kept this up, maybe Sebastian wouldn't have to worry so much about leaving the house in her hands. He bade Tanaka and Finian farewell and went in search of the rare and elusive Anya Criel.

He found Mey-rin waiting in the entrance hall with Bardroy. They had been conversing in hushed tones, but due to Sebastian's keen hearing he could make out every word.

"I'd swear it on my life, Rin!" the cook was whispering. "I followed that rat back to where I knew the nest was, in the corner of the cellar wall. Then I broke through, _and there was no rats anywhere!_"

Mey-rin shared her friend's befuddlement. "That's not the only strange thing, no sir it isn't! I dropped a whole bundle of sheets out the window and they landed on a mud puddle. When I arrived downstairs, the sheets were spotless and the blinkin' puddle was _missin'!_" She wrung her hands and fidgeted restlessly. "What's happenin' Bard?"

"What _should _be happening," Sebastian drawled, scaring the two of them out of their skins. "Is a staff meeting. Finian and Mr. Tanaka will be along shortly, but the master has refused to begin without Anya. Where is she now?"

Mey-rin recovered from her minor heart attack and stammered something that was quite unintelligent, but that could be roughly translated to: "I taught Anya how to fold bed sheets. She became very drowsy. I told her how to get to my room, which we are sharing now that she lives here. You will probably find her there." Satisfied with his knack for translating the maid's gibberish, Sebastian set of to seek his final quarry.

The servants' quarters were all located in the same corridor. There were four rooms total; Tanaka's and Sebastian's rooms on the left, Finny/Bard's and Mey-rin/Anya's on the right. Sebastian held back the impulse to sweep dramatically into the room, hesitant to invade the girls' living space. Concentrating, Sebastian could sense that Anya was indeed inside, but she was being very quiet.

He rapped sharply on the wood, but there was no answer. He knocked with his whole fist; still no answer. Exasperated, he tried the handle. The door swung open without a sound.

The gas lamps were still flickering brightly, but were completely ignored by the girl sprawled on her bed, fully clothed and dead to the world. _We really must get her sleeping schedule back in order, _Sebastian noted. _She simply can't be collapsing at noon and lively in the dark hours while we're away. _

Anya was sleeping deeply, and didn't move so much as a muscle as Sebastian approached her. As he drew near, however, her smooth features became creased with worry. She suddenly flung her arm across the pillow, clawing at it with trembling fingers.

"Nooo…" she murmured. "Go away…" Anya curled up even further, breathing hard. Sebastian touched her arm lightly, trying to wake her from whatever nightmare was troubling her. She began screaming, and flailed her fists at the butler. Whatever she was dreaming, it was keeping a tight hold on her subconscious.

"Anya Criel, wake up!" Sebastian commanded. "You are dreaming, do you understand? Dreaming!" Anya finally calmed down and opened her eyes. As her brain registered that she was safe in her own bed and the occurrences of her dream were not real, tears of relief spilled from her drowsy eyes. Sebastian could only watch as Anya sat back on the edge of the bed with her face buried in her arms.

Her pale, _equally unscarred arms._

Faster than Anya could even process it, Sebastian had yanked to her feet and was carefully examining her miraculously healed arm. Unlike the last time she had been caught in Sebastian's unbreakable grasp, Anya wasn't afraid. On the contrary, she ceased crying almost at once.

"What is it?" she asked. In her drowsy state of mind, she hadn't yet realized what the fuss was about. Sebastian glared pointedly at Anya's arm, and the maid was instantly awake. All the color drained from her face.

"How?" she whispered, gently tugging away from Sebastian's scrutiny. She poked and prodded at her skin, marveling its smooth, unbroken surface. It was as if she had never been lashed.

"What did you say caused those scars?" Sebastian asked abruptly. Pain flared in Anya's eyes.

"A horse whip," she answered, voice saturated with sadness. "When I was running away I fell, and Eu- and the stable boys held me down and tried to whip me. I almost got away when he- when one of them caught my arm." She gazed up at Sebastian with pleading eyes.

"Please, Sebastian. I don't know how it's possible, but I really didn't do anything! I fell asleep with them, and you when you woke me, they were gone."

Sebastian had been genuinely bewildered exactly twelve times during his post as Phantomhive butler. Three of those instances had occurred in the last twenty-four hours alone. There was no possible way that a human could recover so quickly from that kind of injury, but Sebastian was completely positive that the frail little girl before him was an honest to goodness human being.

While Sebastian tried to sort out the muddled mess in his head, Anya realized that the butler could not have simply barged into her room on a whim.

"So," she spoke into the awkward silence. "What did you need me for?" Sebastian pulled his silver watch from his pocket and _tsk'd_ with distaste.

"We were due in the entrance hall for a meeting two and a half minutes ago," he snapped. "We will discuss this later. Now if you please," he continued, ushering Anya through the door. "Get going or I'll never hear the end of this. And Anya?" The butler and maid slowed in their jaunt through the hallways.

"Yes, Sebastian?"

"Please remember to lock your door in the future."

"Why?"

"…sugar cubes…"

"What was that?"

"…Nothing."

Suddenly, the butler halted midstride. Sebastian Michaelis had very keen senses, even for a demon. By simply concentrating, he could locate anyone on the Phantomhive estate from anywhere else on the grounds, unless they were completely silent (and sometimes, even then).

For instance, if the young master was sound asleep at his desk over a mound of paperwork, Sebastian would be able to sense this if he was in the kitchens, but not if he was in the garden.

Now, as the sound of galloping hooves reached his ears, he held up one hand to silence Anya's concerned questioning and closed his eyes, listening carefully. Just from the distant sounds, Sebastian could piece together a picture in his mind of the goings-on at the front gate.

_The horse's hooves aren't muffled; a good sign. This won't be an attack. The rider has dismounted, boots smacking the ground with a dull _thud._ The reigns swish as they are wrapped around the gatepost. As the rider approached the paved walkway leading to the front door, he pulled something from the depths of his riding jacket. Sebastian heard the telltale crinkle of paper. This interloper was a messenger._

Sebastian opened his scarlet eyes, meeting Anya's worried lilac ones. While the butler had been "out of it", his companion had tried to shake him out of his stupor, and still had his arm in what would be a death grip for a human.

"Anya, please continue to the entrance hall and inform the others that I will only be a moment longer. There is an errand I need to attend to." Sebastian lightly tugged against Anya's grasp, instantly freeing himself. He started in the opposite direction down the hallway.

"Wait! Sebastian, what's-?"

But the butler had already disappeared, sprinting through the corridors. Anya sighed in defeat and continued onward, finally finding her way to the entrance hall where everyone was waiting.

"I'm sorry for being late," she apologized with a light curtsy. "It seems I dozed off for a bit. My sleeping schedule has been turned around for a few days, but I promise it won't happen again."

"It's no trouble," echoed a voice from the shadows. The staff all jumped at the appearance of Earl Phantomhive.

"However," he continued. "You may have to fix your nocturnal habits quickly. I've decided that the position of Sebastian's assistant suits you quite well. You are now officially his helper, and will lend your assistance wherever it is needed. Congratulations, Anya."

This little speech was followed by a smattering of applause from Bard, Mey-rin, Finny, and Mr. Tanaka. Anya's face felt like her own personal sun.

"Speaking of Sebastian, where is he?" Ciel queried. "Hadn't he gone to find you?" It wasn't at all like Sebastian to run off when he was expected somewhere else. Anya opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by a silky voice from the doorway.

"I apologize for being late," Sebastian bowed. "However, I believe that this will more than excuse my transgression." From the depths of his tailcoat, the butler produced a crisp envelope with a dark blue seal.

Everyone immediately looked to Ciel to gauge his reaction. The Earl took the letter from Sebastian and read it, his expression ranging from curiosity to confusion to outright disbelief.

In that moment, everyone in the room saw a change in the boy. His expression hardened, erasing all pretenses of youth and innocence. He was the Queen's Watchdog, and he was in his element. Straightening, Ciel addressed the bewildered service staff.

"You all were called here for a meeting," he announced. "This meeting was to give notice that Sebastian and I were called to London by Her Majesty the Queen. However," he added. "There has been a slight change in our preparations. I would like for Anya to accompany us, and the rest of you to watch over the house while we are away."

Everyone, including Sebastian and Tanaka, gaped at the young Earl. This was unheard of; none of them had ever tagged along for a mission from the _Queen!_ Anya immediately began stuttering her protests, and Sebastian was, not surprisingly, in total agreement with her.

"My Lord," he reasoned. "Miss Criel is obviously not capable for this task." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "She can't even fight," he hissed. "Her presence would only be a burden and a distraction."

Ciel fixed Sebastian with a withering glare, then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Sebastian?" he finally spoke. "Maybe you should read this invitation."

"I already did."

Ciel grumbled something about it being illegal to read other people's mail. "Well, what other solution did you have in mind, then?" The staff looked back and forth between the two as if watching a tennis match.

"Isn't it obvious?" the butler replied with a smirk. "We use the 'original plan.'"

Ciel glared at him, flushed with rage. "Not a _word_," he growled. "I'm never doing that again."

Sebastian consented with a bow and a cheeky, poorly concealed grin. He took the Earl's dismissal as permission to address the staff himself.

"The three of us will be departing in exactly thirty-three minutes," he stated. "The rest of you will remember to keep the house standing and in order. We should return no later than a week from tomorrow." He gave the invitation to Anya so that she could read it. "You are all dismissed. Back to work!"

The entrance hall slowly emptied until only Ciel, Sebastian, and Anya remained. The maid examined the invitation carefully. It was a pure white card inscribed with obsidian ink.

**The Earl Ciel Phantomhive**

**Is cordially invited to the Autumn Gala held by**

**Lady Catrina Soly in London on the Equinox.**

**All attendees must accompany a partner.**

Anya blinked, and reread the card. Then she read it again. Finally, she raised her eyes beseechingly to the young men before her.

"I don't understand," she stated. "Why would you need _me_ for this?" She focused on Ciel. "You have a fiancée, don't you? Couldn't she accompany you? Wait, what am I saying?" she cried. "Why are you attending this gala in the first place? I thought you had a mission to complete!"

Ciel shook his head. "When she wrote to me about the deaths," he explained. "I assumed that it was just another hired assassin taking out business rivals. That sort of thing happens in London quite frequently, actually. The unusual thing, as Sebastian discovered this morning, is that all of the victims went mysteriously missing at different parties across London, and were later found dead in the streets."

"Then why go at all?" Anya exclaimed. "If someone really wants you dead, why would you put yourself right into their hands? And if you had to attend, couldn't you at least disguise yourself?"

Apparently, something about her question was highly amusing to Sebastian, who started convulsing with laughter. If looks could kill, Sebastian might have died (or at least been severely injured) several times over from Ciel's visual dart practice.

"Our last undercover espionage mission did not work out very well," Ciel stated, shuddering at a memory best left forgotten. "In any case, the murderer obviously wants me in attendance, and will not be able to act against me if they aren't aware of my presence. I must attend as myself.

"That is part of the reason we need you, Anya. Lizzie has contracted the flu, so she can't come with me. You've grown up as a noble's daughter; you know the protocol for formal functions like these." His voice lowered until he was speaking more to himself than to his maid.

"Sebastian will be there the entire time, watching over us. We can say that you're my distant cousin… If anything happens, Sebastian will get us both out safely." Ciel regarded his butler significantly. "He will make sure that no harm comes to _either of us._"

He paused. "That is, of course," he amended. "Only if you agree to this. You signed up for household tasks, after all; not secret missions."

Anya straightened her back and stood tall. Her reply was instant and confident.

"I don't believe that you would ask this of me if there was more than a small chance that any real harm would befall us."

Ciel smiled. _How did I know she would say something like that? _He clapped his hands together with finality.

"Right then," he moved on. "Sebastian, continue preparations to depart at once. You know the necessary changes in the plan." The butler bowed and turned smartly on his heel, heading straight for the dresses room.

As he exited the hall, he couldn't help but notice with delight the slight grimace that Anya was trying to hide. She was going to be _overjoyed_ with the outfit that Sebastian would prepare for her on the evening of the gala. The Equinox was only three days away.

* * *

><p>The carriage rumbled down the paved road, bumping over loose stones and potholes. Ciel gazed out the window, staring into space. Neither he nor Anya had spoken much since the hurried lunch at the London townhouse. Obviously, they were both nervous about this particular plan. Someone wanted Ciel dead, and they were handing themselves over on a silver platter! Despite their cheerful attire, Ciel felt he was on his way to a funeral instead of a gala.<p>

The Earl had dressed in his very best noble regalia; custom tailored blue coat, pure white shirt, top hat and cane. His face was decorated with a new ebony eye patch, and his father's ring shone like fire in the lamplight from the street. Ciel was used to looking like this for formal functions. Anya, however, looked like an entirely different person.

Sebastian had dyed the maid's hair as darkly as he could without making it pitch black. It now looked much more similar to Ciel's than her natural light brown. Anya actually didn't mind the drastic color change; it was the dress that infuriated her. Sebastian had selected the frilliest, laciest, _girliest_ pink and black dress that she had ever seen. The full skirt was impossible to walk in, and she just knew that if one spot got on it, the stain would never leave the fabric.

Although, it _had_ been very amusing to see Ciel's reaction to the dress; the blood had rushed to his face, then left it just as quickly. To Anya, it had seemed like the Earl would pass out. When questioned, Ciel had only grumbled and commented about an "unpleasant experience", and said that he would rather not talk about it. Anya made a mental note to interrogate Sebastian when she had the chance, since he obviously knew the big secret.

Finally, they lurched to a stop. Sebastian assisted first Ciel out of the carriage, then Anya, wishing them both luck. Anya took the Earl's proffered arm, and they proceeded to the main entrance of the enormous mansion before them. It was a large Gothic-looking building painted in bold blues and greens. The house itself was no larger than the Phantomhive manor, but it was much more ostentatious and elaborate.

At the front door, Ciel presented his invitation to a waiting attendant, who bowed and asked the identity of the young lady accompanying the Earl that fine evening.

"This is my cousin," Ciel lied smoothly. "Lady Anya… Midford." They had decided earlier to use Elizabeth's surname simply because it would be easy to remember. Hopefully, no one would remember that Elizabeth Middlefield didn't _have_ a sister, or any female cousins, for that matter.

The butler nodded, and waved them into the greeting hall. If possible, the inside of the house was even more frivolously decorated than the outside. Ornate paintings and drapes hung on every available inch of the walls, and vases full of flowers were stacked on tables and armoires. At the opposite end of the hall stood a pair of oaken double doors that presumably lead to the party.

The Earl and his "cousin" paused just outside the door. The sounds of the party could be heard through the thick doors; dozens of people chatting, laughing, and having fun. Ciel turned to Anya.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" he asked. Anya laughed nervously and clutched his arm a little tighter.

"Are you joking?" she teased. "What kind of maid would I be if I couldn't at least do this much for my master?"

_Lord, help us._ Ciel thought to himself. _She sounds just like Sebastian! I must have one hell of a maid._

And so Ciel and Anya stepped through the doors, entering a party hosted by a murderer.

* * *

><p><strong>I really apologize if this doesn't make sense...<strong>

**Moony: If you're that sorry, rewrite it so it _does_ make sense!**

**Noooo! I like this story line! The next chapter includes the nightmare I had that started this whole story in the first place! Well, I guess this chapter may be a little short, but I wanted to update tonight because I won't have access to a computer all week. I promise to try and update sooner next time, okay? **

**Moony: Please R&R, Maya doesn't own Kuroshitsuji/Black Bulter, see ya, bye, etc.**

**In a mini-skirt,**

**Moony/Maya Koppori**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi again! I caught a real break with writing this week; this whole chapter only took me three days total!**

**Moony: She means that since her parents were out of town, she convinced her grandparents to let her write for pretty much all of the weekend.**

**Yup^^ But, since I'm basically failing math-**

**Moony: It's not _basically_ if your average is below a 70%. You are actually failing, moron.**

**Wahhh! You're so meeeeeaaan! So yeah, I'll probably be grounded for a while, which is bad because I really love writing Fallen. Yes, Moony. I just nicknamed my story 'Fallen'.**

**Moony: No comment. You make this too easy. Whatever. Maya doesn't own Kuroshitsuji, although she did buy her school's library a copy of volume three to replace the one they lost.**

***fuming* I hadn't even _read it _yet, and some dirtbag thinks they can just hoard it for themselves for _x_ months with no penalty?**

**Moony: Ignore her and enjoy this chappie.**

* * *

><p>Anya froze. Ciel and Sebastian had warned her in advance, but she still wasn't prepared for there to be so many <em>people!<em> From wall to wall, the spacious hall was packed with courtiers mingling with their friends and business associates. The gentlemen wore suits of dark silk, the ladies a rainbow of shimmering satin. With only a casual glance, the Earl and his maid could tell that they were by far the youngest of the crowd, although they were dressed just as finely.

With their arms still linked, they made their way into the throng. Ciel guided Anya deftly through the swarming guests, searching for any familiar faces. He gestured politely to an Asian man who was lounging around with a scantily-clad young woman, laughing and drinking wine.

"That's Lau," Ciel explained under his breath. "Head of England's Chinese trading branch, and also a proprietor for most of England's opium dens." Anya, wide eyed, tried not to glance back at this news. She kept her carefully composed "Party Face" firmly in place, pretending to laugh at some joke that had not been made.

Out of the corner of her eye, Anya spotted two strangely dressed Indian men on the other side of the hall. They were both waving and calling out, seemingly trying to gain Lord Phantomhive's attention.

"My lord," Anya nudged his arm.

"Anya?" he laughed. "Why are you being so formal, _cousin?_ People will think that you don't even know me!" While he laughed, his eye was sending her an urgent message. Anya laughed along with him, inwardly cursing herself.

Wasn't the _entire point _of this charade to make everyone think that they were related? In between Sebastian's crash courses on etiquette, dance, and recent family history, the point had been stressed several times: In conversation, address the Earl as "Ciel" or merely "cousin".

"How could that be, C-Ciel?" she stammered. "We are related after all!" Relief coursed through her as curious eavesdroppers around them shrugged and continued chatting. "But those two men over there seem to want your attention rather badly."

Ciel followed her gaze and cursed under his breath. The Indians saw this and rushed toward them, one whooping with glee while the other trailed behind, the picture of calm. As they drew near, Anya could make out some of the energetic one's words.

"Cieeeeel!~" he crowed. "Why weren't you at home? We left the townhouse to visit you, but you were already gone!"

"Hello again, _Prince _Souma." Ciel sighed in defeat.

Anya gasped, and Souma finally seemed to notice her. In a flash, he had grabbed the Earl and was hissing at him furiously.

"Are you _stepping out_ on little sister Elizabeth?" he fumed. Both Ciel and Anya, who had overheard, turned scarlet.

"Of course I-!"

"He wouldn't-!"

"Aha!" Prince Souma shouted triumphantly. "Your guilty faces are the proof! Shame on you Ciel! SHAME!"

"Your Highness," spoke a clear, authoritative voice. "You are jumping to conclusions."

The trio turned their gaze to the fourth person to speak, the other Indian. He had arrived at the Prince's elbow and was now trying to calm him down.

"But Agni~" he whined. "Ciel is-."

"Prince Souma, Agni," Ciel cut in. "May I introduce you to my _younger cousin_, Anya Midford."

Anya waved shyly.

"I didn't know Elizabeth had a sister…" the Prince stated suspiciously. "Why haven't I met you before?" Anya regained some of her confidence; they had prepared for this.

"Lizzie is mycousin," she lied smoothly. "Ciel is like a second cousin of sorts, from my father's side." Ciel made a small humming sound; he approved. Everything was going well so far.

"Lizzie has the flu," she continued, warming up to her theme. "She caught it last minute, and I was visiting her home when Ciel came to pick her up." She glanced at the Earl. "You'd already had that new suit made, hadn't you?"

"Indeed," Ciel picked up the lie. "Elizabeth knew how much I wanted to attend this party, and Miss Nina would have killed me if I let her fantastic work go to waste."

"So Lizzie said it was alright for me to accompany Ciel tonight," Anya finished. "Since the invitation said that you had to bring a partner."

They both held their breath while Prince Souma considered their lie. _As a friend of the family,_ Anya worried. _Prince Souma would have to be completely _stupid _to-_

"Wonderful!" the Prince cried, drawing them all into a group hug. "Now little brother Ciel and I have even more family!"

"_Little… brother?"_ squeaked Anya, struggling to breathe.

"_Tell you… later." _Ciel gasped, wrenching away from the Indian's embrace.

"By the way, Souma," Ciel jibed. "How did _you _get in? I don't see your partner anywhere." The Prince put on a bored face.

"I wasn't invited," he revealed. "Your servants told me you were here, so Agni snuck us in."

"Why, you slimy little-!"

Suddenly, the gas lamps in the hall were dimmed, leaving only the top of the grand staircase in candle light. At the head of the stairs, a red velvet curtain was pulled aside, and a young woman was revealed. She had startling red hair, which was offset by her pale, flawless skin and clear blue eyes. Her green party dress could be heard swishing around her ankles as she approached the banister, because the entire assembly had gone silent.

"Greetings, everyone," she chimed. Her voice was high, clear, and sharp as crystal. "Thank you all for attending this evening. I am Catrina Soly, your hostess. This Gala was thrown for the sole purpose of bringing everyone together for a time of food, drink, and merry-making. The Equinox is upon us, and the daylight hours are perfectly balanced with the hours of the night. Let this magic lift your hearts and lighten your spirits. There will be an orchestra playing soon, so everyone have a wonderful time and share a dance with your partner. Enjoy!"

With that, Catrina Soly clapped her hands twice. Instantly, the light returned to the room and the orchestra started up a beautiful waltz. Everywhere, the gentlemen began bowing to their partners, asking for the pleasure of a dance. Soon, the center of the floor was filled with tapping feet and swirling skirts. To Ciel's irritation, their host had descended the stairs on the _opposite _side of them, and was now all the way across the hall from them.

"Blast," he muttered. "We'll have to dance our way across."

"But Sebastian said that you were a _terrible _dancer," Anya blurted. She smacked herself on the forehead. _I really need to keep my mouth shut._

"Did he now?" Ciel smirked. "Remind me later to ask you whatever else he might have let slip about our last undercover ball, won't you?"

* * *

><p><strong>Looking through the window from the branches of an overhanging elm, Sebastian scowled as he read the lips of his young master and assistant. <strong>_**You will pay for that, Criel.**_

* * *

><p><em>"Sorry,"<em> Anya mouthed. She knew that Sebastian must be glaring at her from somewhere, watching them. It should be impossible for him to actually know what they were saying, but you could never put anything past that butler.

Ciel bade Prince Souma and Agni a good evening and they made their way to the dance floor. Ciel noticed with some amusement that Anya visibly stiffened when he took her waist. Her left hand trembled against his shoulder, and her right hand clutched his left hand in a terrified grasp.

"Are you nervous?" he asked politely. Anya shook her head jerkily; she could do this. She had practiced this very waltz with Sebastian only hours ago. While it had been stiff and awkward, she had completed the steps easily enough.

"I've danced before," she whispered. "Just not in front of... _people._"

"Just let me lead," Ciel assured her. "We don't have to be the best dancers; we only need to cross the hall unnoticed. Remember what Sebastian taught you."

"... Alright." Anya assented. "Let's go."

And suddenly, they were right in the middle of the dancers, weaving their way to the other end of the floor. Ciel guided them expertly around the taller courtiers, lightly nudging Anya into each turn and spin. While concentrating on her feet, Anya found the breath to speak.

"Well, I suppose this makes Sebastian a liar for saying that you can't dance."

Ciel didn't break stride.

"Sebastian _never_ lies. I suppose the man's dancing role simply comes more naturally to me than the woman's."

Anya stumbled a bit. "You mean, that undercover mission was-"

"_An unpleasant experience that I don't wish to discuss at the moment._"

Anya kept her silence. The song ended with them just at the edge of the dancers. Everyone bowed to their partners, Anya perhaps a bit lower than most. But they had done it! Anya could see Lady Soly only a few feet to her right, chatting with and congratulating the passing dancers.

"Get ready," muttered Ciel, taking Anya's arm once again. Together, they approached their hostess. Ciel quickly introduced himself, and Lady Soly followed suit.

"And who is this, hiding behind you?" she teased, tucking a stray red hair behind her ear. "Do I have the pleasure of finally meeting the renowned daughter of the Knights of England?"

Ciel coaxed Anya forward, and she bobbed a small curtsy customary from noble to noble. "I'm afraid not, Lady Soly. That would be my dear cousin Elizabeth, who was unable to attend this evening. The Earl is also my cousin, so I accompanied him tonight so that he could attend your wonderful gala. You have a beautiful home, by the way."

Ciel watched as Anya's years of social training kicked in. Where before she had been an awkward speaker, she became an eloquent aristocrat under pressure. Catrina inclined her head to the compliment.

"Thank you, and thank you both for attending this evening. You know," she added. "A few close friends of mine will be staying afterwards for a little private get-together. Would the two of you mind attending?"

Ciel and Anya exchanged subtle glances.

_So this is how it works..._

_She invites her target..._

_To an after party..._

_That doesn't exist..._

_Corners them..._

_And eventually..._

_Kills them._

"We would be honored." they accepted simultaneously. Their hostess beamed at them, then took off toward someone she evidently recognized. Ciel and Anya looked at each other, and silently congratulated themselves. They were in.

"That was rather... easy." Anya finally commented. There was nothing to do now but mingle and wait for the party to end.

"Perhaps too easy?" Ciel guessed as they meandered in the direction of the refreshment table. They each helped themselves to a mild glass of punch.

"Well," stated Anya. "It was all rather obvious, the way she invited us straight out like that. There were even others near us. They were probably listening in."

"It wouldn't matter if they were," Ciel argued. "All they heard was that you and I would be joining Lady Soly and several nameless others for a small gathering. Nothing suspicious about that at all."

"I wonder if there will actually be others there, or if the trap is for a single person only." Anya mused. She frowned, brow furrowing in concentration. _Something's missing..._

Ciel's gaze wandered from face to face in the crowd, scanning for anyone else familiar to chat with until the end of the gala. His eye fell on a tall, bespectacled fellow in a dark suit. The man's back was turned to them, but, as if feeling Ciel's gaze, he turned to look straight at them. Ciel's breath caught in his throat as he took in the familiar features of-

"William Spears," Ciel growled. Anya snapped out of her trance, and finally had her answer; the missing element.

"Ciel, the-!"

"Not now, Anya." Ciel snapped, shoving his empty glass into her free hand. "There is a- an associate whom I must greet. No, you can't come; it's dangerous. Go stand by the door, and I'll be right back." Helpless, Anya could only watch her master's retreating form until he was lost in the crowd. She followed his order's, making her way to the small service door near the stairs. Leaning against the wall, she drained her glass. Anya ran the question through her head again and again; _what became of the victims' partners?_

According to Sebastian's investigation, the victims had only four things in common: They were all male. They were all major figures in the English economic system, and favored by Her Majesty the Queen. They had all been given invitations identical to the one that Lord Phantomhive received. (Somehow, the butler had commandeered these for his search.) And they had all been found after the parties, dead in the streets. _Alone._

_Surely, _thought Anya. _The Earl and I weren't the only victims to be invited as a pair? If the business dealers were murdered, where are their partners, since they couldn't have attended without one?_

Searching frantically, Anya finally spotted Ciel and the man called William arguing by the terrace. She braced herself. Order or no order, she had to speak with Ciel about this matter; it could affect both of their safeties. As she stepped forward to find her way through the crowd again, something hard crashed into her with alarming speed. Anya fell back hard, cracking her head against the wall. Both glasses flew up into the air before shattering on the tile floor only inches from Anya's feet. Sprawled across her legs was a young serving boy carrying an empty tray. He pushed his platinum hair from his eyes, groaning in pain.

"What was..." he began, and then realized that it wasn't the floor he was laying on. His eyes traveled from Anya's knees to meet her eyes, and he gasped.

"Oh, _no!_" he wailed, pulling himself up frantically. "I am _so sorry!_ I didn't see you at all, my lady, and- Oh, I've made another mess of things!" The boy politely apologized and helped Anya to her feet, where she stayed for maybe three seconds before swaying and almost falling again. The boy caught her by the elbows, trying to keep her upright.

"My lady?" he asked, worry shining in his blue eyes. "Are you hurt?"

"..._Head._" Anya moaned. She tenderly touched a quivering hand to the back of her head. It came away stained scarlet. "Ow," she whispered. The boy's eyes widened at the sight of the blood.

"You hit your head? I hope you didn't get a concussion... Oh, and your dress! It'll be ruined if we let that stain set!" With blurry eyes, Anya looked down at the pretty pink dress. The front of the skirt was now soaked with punch.

"Come with me, my lady," the boy urged. "I'll get a doctor, and someone to clean you up. Is that okay?" Anya nodded slowly. It hurt to nod.

"Who?" she murmured as the blue-eyed boy led her through the service door, signaling for another serving boy with purple hair to clean up the mess on the floor. _I must have really hit my head hard. _she thought, already half asleep. _I'm seeing three of that boy all at once!_

Anya's escort grinned, showing off unusually long canines.

"Try to stay awake, Miss. My name is Colin, Colin Arysta."

* * *

><p>"I continue to request," the Shinigami remarked. "That you keep your dog on its leash at all times, little Earl."<p>

"And I continue to demand," Ciel retorted. "That you stop changing the subject, Spears. What in blazes are you doing here?" William pushed his glasses into place restlessly.

"What else?" he deadpanned. "I'm on business. Someone here is on my List To Die."

"Leave, Shinigami," Ciel seethed. "I'm here on delicate business, so stay out of my way. Sebastian is acting on my orders alone. In fact, I can see him now, right outside the window there." Ciel nodded to the window, and William turned to see the small, glowing eyes in the tree bob twice in response.

"Well," he said. "That _does _make things interesting." He scanned the crowd around them, as if looking for someone.

"What is interesting?"

"It seems," William explained. "That there is at least one more devil here tonight, other than yours."

"What?" Ciel cried, and then lowered his voice to keep from attracting attention. "Who is it?"

"I'm afraid I don't know. Unfortunately, I've come to recognize your dog's scent. That is a peculiar sensation for me, because I've never had to deal with one devil for so long without killing it. I've smelled this one before, but I can't place it." William sighed. "I can already tell that this is going to spell 'overtime' for me. In any case, keep on your toes. I pity the unknowing fools in this jumble; they wouldn't think of a pretty face and a few kind words hiding a monster like _that. _Any trusting fool would be completely helpless, don't you agree, Earl?" William turned to where Ciel should have been, but the Earl had vanished.

"Oh, well. With any luck, he's been snatched by the other devil and- Drat, that _still _means overtime."

* * *

><p><strong>Sebastian observed his young master leave the Shinigami. He hadn't caught much of the conversation, only that there may be other demons in the area. Suddenly, the branch he was crouching on disappeared from under him. Only the butler's sharp reflexes allowed him to land serenely on his feet from the forty-foot drop. <strong>**Looking up, he found himself surrounded by the servants of a bitter enemy. As calmly as possible, Sebastian unsheathed his impressive array of silverware. They wanted a fight.**

* * *

><p>Ciel shoved his way through the Counts, Dukes, and Earls as quickly and politely as possible. A feeling of dread settled upon his heart when he reached the service door; Anya was nowhere in sight. He struggled to calm himself.<p>

"Sebastian," he murmured. "Come here. I need to talk to you." A few seconds later, the butler appeared on the other side of the door. He looked extremely shaken. His hair was unkempt and his clothes nearly in shreds.

"What happened?" Ciel breathed.

"It's Trancy, my lord. He and his servants."

"That son of a- never mind. Where is Anya?"

"I don't know, my lord. Moments after you left the Shinigami, they attacked me. Claude and Hannah kept me away from the hall, and after a while the triplets joined them. My lord, I must leave before they track me back to the hall; the guests-"

"Alright," Ciel cut in. "Keep them away from the hall, just find Anya. If Trancy really is here, he probably tried the same stunt as last time. Check the extra rooms for any sign of life. This is an order: Save Anya and defeat them. Do not lose. Now go!"

Sebastian bowed quickly and took off into the rest of the mansion, the door slamming from the speed of his departure. Ciel continued roaming about the hall as if nothing had happened. After only a few minutes, something important was glaring in his mind. Catrina Soly had also disappeared.

* * *

><p>Anya stirred; sleep still shrouding her muddled mind. She'd been having a dream... about a party. Ciel was there, and a strange boy with clear eyes... As she began to wake up, Anya's senses came back slowly.<p>

The first thing she was aware of was the aching in the back of her skull. That's right; she had hit her head when she fell. She reached a hand out to examine the wound, but found that her arms wouldn't move. Her whimper of complaint was muffled by a cloth wrapped tightly around her mouth. And, ever so slowly, she became aware of the murmur of voices.

"She will wake soon, Your Highness." The cold, calculating voice penetrated the fog in her brain, and she shivered involuntarily. This voice was ice itself.

"I have ears, Claude," another voice snapped. It was familiar... it sounded like the serving boy, Colin. He sounded irate. "She can probably even hear us now. Didn't you see? She doesn't like your voice."

"My apologies, Your Highness. I did not mean to insult your intelligence." There was a loud scraping noise, and Anya's eyes were startled open. All she saw was darkness.

"Your Highness, she is fully awake now. May I?" Footsteps. They were close, and getting closer.

"Hurry up, will you? Those incompetents of mine won't keep the butler busy for long."

Anya felt cold breath on her neck as "Claude" leaned over her and pulled away the blindfold obscuring the maid's vision. She blinked against the dim light, her eyes adjusting quickly.

The first thing she saw was Colin, no longer dressed in a serving uniform, but in an ostentatiously rich (and rather tacky) suit and coat. He was lounging on a sofa directly across from her, his knee-high boots propped on the armrest. Observing him made Anya wonder exactly what position she was in, as she still couldn't make her limbs work. She glanced down at herself, and the only thing that stopped her cry of outrage was the gag that still silenced her.

Someone had removed her frilly dress, leaving only the various layers of underclothes she had worn. She spotted the dress hanging on the back of a wooden chair, completely dry and stainless. Now that she could think, Anya wondered how the dress had gotten wet to begin with, seeing as both her glasses and Colin's tray had been empty at the time of the crash.

Her bare feet were bound with rope, as were her arms. With a few experimental tugs, Anya realized that her arms were not only bound to each other, but also to the bedpost behind her back. She herself was half-kneeling on the bed in a very uncomfortable position, and both her arms and her legs had grown numb.

Anya gazed at Colin with pleading eyes, her small sounds of confusion and fear falling on deaf ears. Colin would help her, wouldn't he? He had been so kind before.

"So," he sneered. "You're the Earl's new little toy? Honestly, I don't see it. Oh, come now," he snarled, cutting off her muffled protests. "Don't expect me to fall for that stupid 'distant-cousin' act. Really, could you have been any more obvious? How pathetic." Anya's eyes pooled with tears. Before, Colin's voice had been polite and friendly. It was now mean-spirited and cold. Why was he being cruel?

"Indeed, Your Highness."

Anya jumped. She had almost forgotten about Claude. Twisting her neck as far as she could, Anya could just catch a glimpse of a smart suit, dark hair, and rectangular glasses. He inclined his head at her.

"Good evening, Miss. As my master says, you may want to brush up a bit on your acting."

Anya's head snapped back to face Colin. This boy was the frightening man's "master"? Apparently annoyed with her unintelligible mumbles, Colin gestured for Claude to remove the gag.

"Don't raise your voice," he advised. "Or I'll have Claude break one of your arms." He laughed openly at Anya's terrified face. "Now, let's get down to business; tell me everything you know about Lord Phantomhive, and you leave here unscathed. Deal?"

* * *

><p>William T. Spears wandered the empty grounds of the mansion while reading his little notebook. He checked his watch; 11:40. Only twenty minutes until he was due to judge this person's soul. It wasn't really a strange thing, to die exactly on the stroke of midnight, but it was a rare occasion for William. He had only judged four other "midnighters" during his career, and they had all been judged favorably.<p>

"But," he said aloud. "I can't allow that to cloud my reason for tonight. As a Shinigami, it is my duty to review and critique a person's Cinematic Record fairly and-"

"Waaaah! Will, you're such a downer~!" cried a voice from above his head. Without altering his pace, William extended his Death Scythe at a tree branch and made contact with the interloper. A bundle of red fell at his feet, and he simply stepped over it to continue on his way. The bundle scrambled to its feet and followed William, clutching its head in pain.

"Aw, Will! That was uncalled for!"

"What do you want, Grelle?" The red haired man gawked at William before responding, "To see my dear Sebas-chan, of course! Don't hold out on me, I _know_ he's here tonight!"

William sighed. "Fine, you can come along. I suppose you could actually be useful, what with this place being infested with demons."

"Yay~!" cried Grelle. "So," he probed, sneaking a peek over William's shoulder. "Who's the lucky gal?" On the open page of William's notebook was a picture of a young brunette with sad violet eyes. It was followed by the words:

Name: Anya Criel

Age: 14

T.O.D.: 12:00 A.M., 24 of September

C.O.D.: Broken neck

Assignment: Incomplete

* * *

><p>Anya gaped at him. "What do-? Who are-? Why is-?"<p>

"You must be really dumb," Colin sighed. "I ask you a simple question, and you can't even answer it. You're even worse than my stupid butler." Anya felt Claude flinch at her side, and, despite everything, felt a stab of sympathy for him. _Ciel never talks to Sebastian that way._

"Who are you, really?" Anya demanded, keeping her voice low. She somehow knew that he had been serious about breaking her arm.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to at least tell you that, I suppose," he conceded. "I am the Earl Alois Trancy, and you are my key to Ciel Phantomhive."

"Key?" Anya snorted. "I'm his _maid_. I'm disposable, understand? I came along with Ciel tonight only because Lady Elizabeth was unable to, and he was so determined to catch the monster who murdered all those people. Lady Soly's invitation insisted to bring a partner, and I was on hand."

"A maid, eh? Then you must be one hell of a maid, for him to allow you to address him so casually." Anya wanted to smack herself. Trancy wouldn't believe her if she tried to explain her slip of the tongue. She hung her head, silent. She kept still even as Alois extricated himself from the sofa and slowly approached her.

A searing pain rippled across her scalp, and only by biting her lip until she tasted blood did Anya keep her screams at bay. Alois jerked her head farther back by the roots of her hair, forcing her to meet his sadistic gaze.

"You couldn't be _just a maid_ to Ciel," the madman hissed. "None of his real servants ever call him by his first name, not even his precious demon." The tears in Anya's eyes finally spilled over. What was this boy saying? This talk of demons was insane!

"What are you to him?" the voice in her ear whispered. The fisted hand in Anya's hair slowly untangled itself and brought the crying maid into a gentle, one-sided embrace. Anya sniffled into Alois's shoulder, unable to pull away. Despite herself, she began mulling over the question.

Ciel definitely wasn't interested in her romantically; she had seen his eye light up as he spoke Elizabeth's name. It was a name he treasured, and cared for more than anything.

However, Anya realized, she hadn't been treated like the other members of the staff. She had put it down to her inexperience of being in the Earl's service, but Anya now remembered that Ciel had been exceedingly kind to her before she even began her job. He had offered her a home before work or payment was even mentioned. He hadn't treated her as a stranger, or even as a servant. It was as if...

"I'm his friend," Anya sobbed. The truth of her statement resonated in her entire being. They were all her friends, and good ones too. _Even Sebastian,_ she thought with a small smile. Anya fell back as Alois pushed her away from him and just stood at the edge of the bed.

"Friend," he muttered, as if saying the unfamiliar word for the first time. "You are his _friend_?" He abruptly drew back his hand and smacked Anya across the face. The force of the blow made her head connect with the bedpost, and she felt the gash on her head reopen.

"You aren't his friend," Alois growled. "I'm not going to let him have anything, and that includes friends. I'm going to take it all away from him to account for what he's done." He stalked toward her again, predatory in his stance. Anya struggled to shrink away from him, but the ropes bound her firmly. She was completely helpless.

"I can barely see it," Alois purred. "I can see why he would want you. I've met that crybaby Elizabeth, and she's nothing special." As he spoke, he came closer and closer, eventually crawling onto the bed with her, close enough to touch. He moved dangerously close, going so far as to loom over her, one knee splayed on either side of her huddled form.

"I can tell you're lying," he whispered huskily. "He isn't your friend. You're just his little toy, aren't you? He doesn't love you, little girl. He's using you, just as I could easily do. Right now." He leaned forward and kissed her forcefully on the mouth, pinning Anya's back against the post. She gasped, but that only encouraged the insane lad. When she managed to jerk her lips away, gulping for air, his mouth never left her skin, but trailed across her swelling cheek.

Alois lifted a hand to the back of Anya's head, fingering her bleeding wound as he pulled himself closer. With his other, he began trying to discard Anya's top layer of clothing. Unable to do so because of Anya's bound arms, he simply tore the undershirt off with a growl.

A violent shudder wracked Anya's entire body at the sound; it was feral and untamed. Alois's hands traced the contours of her sides as he kissed the side of Anya's face all the way to her ear, which he nibbled at and then licked.

The shivering maid did the only thing that seemed natural. She head-butted Trancy as hard as she could. Swinging her head to the side, she made direct contact between her temple and his nose.

"YOOW!" Alois fell off the bed, crashing to the floor. Claude stepped from the shadows to help him up. All sympathy Anya had felt for the butler evaporated; she had completely forgotten that Claude was there, watching his master do such things to her.

"Stupid little…" Alois groaned. He was nursing an extremely bloody broken nose. "Claude," he snapped. "This one has become an annoyance. Kill her quickly so I can get back in that silly dress." The butler bowed, and disappeared before returning with a familiar green ball gown and a red wig.

"Lady Soly?" Anya gasped, catching her breath. _Of course! Those eyes… that's where I recognized them from. This has been Alois's doing all along! _Every murder, all of the parties, everything that had occurred over the course of the evening had been orchestrated by Earl Trancy.

"Very nice, isn't it? I absolutely hate lying," Alois fibbed. "So I tried to keep as much truth in my aliases as possible. Claude taught me about these wonderful things called _anagrams._ They're like little word games; you just scramble up the letters of a word to make other words. 'Alois Trancy' scrambled up makes 'Catrina Soly', and also 'Colin Arysta'. It's actually very entertaining. I would recommend trying it out, but you'll be dead in a few seconds. Hurry _up,_ Claude!"

"Yes, Your Highness."

Claude was suddenly standing behind Anya. His hands hovered over her collarbone, as if wondering which would be the best way to end her life. Just as his hands settled on her shoulders, the door at the end of the room slammed open.

"S-Sebastian," Anya choked out her relief at seeing the butler. His hair and clothes were a mess, but he looked otherwise unhurt. She watched as his eyes took in everything before him in less than a second before coming to rest on Claude's gloved hands, which had closed loosely around Anya's neck.

"Your appearance is unforgivable," Claude said with disdain. "A real butler should always be presentable."

"And who, may I ask, made it impossible for me to look my best this evening?" Sebastian's voice dripped with frozen hatred. "That's right; it was you and your ilk, Claude Faustus."

"Don't blame me for your remissions," warned Claude. "Or this girl's blood will be on your hands, Michaelis." He tightened his grip, and Anya let out a yelp of discomfort. Sebastian's eyes instantly locked on hers, searching for any information. Anya could only stare at him hopelessly.

"Just do it, Claude," Alois cried. "I order you!"

Somewhere in the distance, Anya could hear church bells chiming the hour. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pressure of Claude's hands, and began counting the chimes.

_**Bong.**__ One. _Anya stopped struggling.

_**Bong.**__ Three_. There was nothing she could do.

_**Bong.**__ Five_. She hoped Finny and the others wouldn't be too sad.

_**Bong.**__ Seven_. _I hope I see mother and father in heaven._

_**Bong.**__ Nine_. Anya opened her eyes and put all of her will into a silent message for Sebastian, who still hadn't moved. _I don't blame you. You're only human; you can't save everyone._

_**Bong.**__ Ele-_

Two dark shapes crashed through the window. One, a red colored monster, dove straight for Sebastian with a cry of, "SEBBY!". The other, a man who Anya recognized as William from the ball, leaped through the falling glass and drove a spear right into her chest. The shaft cut cleanly through her final flimsy undershirt, and Anya saw a bright light pass in front of her eyes.

"Your Record, if you please," William intoned. As her vision went dark, Anya heard the final chime sound in the distance.

_**Bong. **__Twelve. I'm dead._

* * *

><p><strong>Ohhh, a cliffhanger! This is all for now, so hopefully I won't be punished too badly. On top of it all, our Anime Club got shut down... maybe I can stay anyway and use the library's computers to write?<strong>

**Moony: It's your own fault for failing math.**

**I just don't get it! It isn't _my _fault that I got put in the advanced class after four months of reiterating the fact that I wouldn't do well. But do I have a say? NO! Thanks a lot, _mother!_**

**Moony: Don't worry, people. This has been happening a lot recently. Have a good holiday season and R&R.**

_**Signed, Moony/Maya Koppori**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Omygod I am so _sorry!_ You don't know what I've been through to finish this chapter!**

**Moony: *falls into chair* Finally, it's over. For realz, ya'll. She's not exaggerating this time. This past month has been nothing but holidays, tests, and parental crap.**

**Yes, Moony. We all know my dad's being a jerkface. I'll get over it. Eventually. Anywho~ This is the longest chapter yet! I would continue to apologize for the delay, but I guess we'll get right down to it. Moony-pie?**

**Moony: That is not my name! Nevertheless, Maya-chan does not own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler. After this nonsensical chapter, you will all know why.**

* * *

><p>There was nothing. Time was nothing. Space was nothing. <em>She <em>was nothing. She supposed this was what death was like. But if she was dead…

Why was she aware of it?

She tried to open her eyes. Instead of darkness, she saw milky white. _How strange, _she thought. _Why am I here? Why aren't I…? Where am I from again?_

She concentrated, but her mind drew a blank. She tried to remember something easier; her name.

_Why don't I know what my name is?_

She looked around. Nothing but a wispy blank. She looked down. She was wearing underclothes. The shirt was slashed, but the skin underneath was smooth. Her feet were bare. She couldn't see or feel the ground. She looked up. The sun was nowhere to be found. Every part of her body felt weightless; there was nothing supporting her.

_What a bland place._ _What do I do now?_

"Anya."

She jerked around, twisting to find the source of the soft voice. Far away but coming close was a long, snaking strip of what looked like film. It wove through the misty emptiness, scattering wispy clouds in every direction.

"_Anya!"_

The strip flew at her, folding and enveloping her in a tight coil. She cried out as memory crashed into her at lightning speed. Every emotion she had ever felt; every thought, every touch, and every scrap of information she had ever processed. The numbness of her blank surroundings was burned away and replaced with pure feeling. And a million times over, she heard that name.

"Anya?"

She remembered. Her name was Anya.

"Anya? Why the name Anya?"

Slowly, a picture formed in front of Anya's eyes. There were two women in a small, plain room. One was elderly, with graying hair and a round, motherly sort of face. Sitting beside her on one of the two beds was a young woman who was obviously with child. She pushed a strand of light brown hair behind her ear and tenderly cupped a hand around her abdomen. Her cornflower blue eyes sparkled with tears at the older woman's question.

"Oh Collette, it was his mother's name," she sobbed. Collette put a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"It's alright," she shushed. "Just let it out." Her friend cried, repeating the same thing over and over again.

"Why did it happen? Why'd it happen to him? Ian didn't deserve to die!"

"Nobody deserves a death like that, Amelia," Collette sighed. "But the best thing you can do is keep living for him, and for your little Anya. How are you so sure it's a girl, anyway?" Amelia fixed Collette with a broken stare.

"He wanted a little girl. A girl with his eyes."

The scene shifted. The next thing Anya saw was Amelia's face, frozen in a death mask of pain. Before, she had been the picture of health; now, she was thin as a rail and her skin had lost every bit of its former color. Anya could tell that she had died moments ago, but had been malnourished long before then. Collette hovered nearby, a crumpled bundle in her arms. Silent tears fell from her eyes.

"Amelia," she cried. "Why wouldn't you listen? You didn't have to die for him." She cradled the still form in her arms. "And now you've killed this child as well. Little Anya. You got his wish; she had his eyes."

Anya gasped. Collette was holding a baby_. A dead baby_.

Anya Criel had been born dead.

A bright flash obscured the vision. Anya shied away from the light, eyes squeezed shut. As she felt physical sensation return to her body, she felt the feather-light touch of lips against her ear. The last thing she heard before regaining consciousness was a familiar voice in her ear.

"You don't need to see this. You need to wake up and help your friends."

It was her own voice.

* * *

><p>"They could have <em>told<em> me," muttered William. The girl's Cinematic Record had faded from his sight, and she was waking up. There was no doubt about it; this one was protected. Someone had interfered with her destiny; in short, Anya Criel shouldn't have lived at all.

He freed her bound arms and feet and caught her as she slumped forward. He laid her into a more convenient position on the bed before addressing the demon.

"Where are the others?" he demanded. The Phantomhive butler glared back at him.

"Your little nuisance attacked Trancy and his butler. He seemed to think that Claude was my _b__oyfriend._" Sebastian shuddered.

"That does sound like him," William agreed. "I take it that this one is your responsibility." He gestured to Anya, who was just sitting up. She rubbed her head, unintelligible fragments of conversation spilling out of her. Sebastian quickly crossed the room to check her over for injuries. Finding none whatsoever, he turned back to face William.

"Why isn't she dead?" William ignored Sebastian's bluntness.

"Her record was favorable," the Shinigami lied. "She does not need to die now."

"You're lying," Sebastian replied instantly. "Why didn't you cultivate her soul?"

"That matter has nothing to do with you."

"My master has charged me with protecting this girl. It has _everything_ to do with me."

"I'm afraid I am simply unauthorized to speak of it." William walked by Sebastian with a cool glance. "If you don't mind, I must collect Grelle. If he causes too much trouble, it'll be triple overtime for the both of us." With that, he left the room at a sprint.

"Sebastian?" The frightened complaint restrained the butler. He turned back to the bed and watched Anya sit up. Sebastian knelt at Anya's eye level to look her in the eyes.

"Anya, I don't have any time for explanations. We have to find the young master now." The maid nodded to show that she understood the urgency of the situation, but her eyes still showed signs of instability. Sebastian sighed. _Humans are so easily shaken._ He placed a hand on each of Anya's shoulders and looked her in the eyes.

"You aren't in any danger now. Our young lord has ordered me to protect you with my life, and that is what I will do. You know the abilities of our staff; as long as you are with us, we will make sure that no one will hurt you again." He spoke firmly and with authority, but also with a certainty that comforted Anya, and helped her get over some of her shock.

"I know," she promised.

"Right, then." Sebastian straightened. "Let's go." Suddenly, Anya was on her feet. A few swirls of fabric later, she was clothed in the emerald green gown that Alois had worn. She glared at Sebastian.

"Don't complain," he ordered, half pushing her through the door. "Trancy took the pink one for some reason, and we are not walking around with you only halfway dressed."

"Somehow, I thought that sadist would prefer pink," Anya muttered. Sebastian grinned and led her through several hallways until they reemerged in the dancing hall. A few stragglers were still lingering, talking amongst themselves and commenting on the wonderful party. They still thought that the evening had been a simple one, full of joy and dance. To Anya, it seemed like an entirely different world.

_None of them have any idea of what occurred only a few doors away._

"There!" Sebastian had found Ciel quickly. He was casually hanging back, trying not to look as if he was waiting for someone. The Phantomhive servants approached with a bow and a curtsy. Ciel looked relieved.

"Where have you been?" he breathed. "I thought you'd been carried off, or worse!" Anya and Sebastian exchanged a glance.

"We will have to inform you at a later time, young master." Sebastian's tone conveyed the urgency of the situation. "It would behoove us to leave right now. Trancy and Faustus are still on the prowl."

"And those strange men, too," Anya added. Ciel started, and looked to Sebastian for confirmation. The butler nodded, and Ciel groaned.

"We have to get away from here," he agreed. "Sebastian, get the carriage. Try not to get tackled on the way."

They all made for the exit, but found their way blocked by a young servant boy dressed in red. He was tall and raven haired, and easily handsome. He stood in the doorway, hands planted on his hips. Sebastian moved to step by him, but the young man stepped into his path. Anya gasped as she caught sight of him, and hid herself behind Ciel's small frame.

"Please move, boy," Sebastian instructed. "My young master and mistress need to be on their way." The boy shook his head, glaring through Ciel and straight at Anya.

"That's no young mistress, butler," the boy accused. "What are you doing here, Anya? Everyone's been looking for you!" Sebastian stepped forward on the maid's behalf.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken," he lied smoothly. "This is Lady Amelia Midford, cousin of Earl Ciel Phantomhive." Ciel nodded his head, and Anya dropped into a quick curtsy, staring at her shoes. "Now, if you will kindly step aside."

"No," the boy said stubbornly. "That's Anya Criel, Count Rosenbloom's adopted daughter. She ran away after- a misunderstanding with our staff." He turned to Anya with pleading hazel eyes. "Why won't you talk to me, Anya? It's me, Eugene. Am I not your friend anymore?"

"I must insist," said Sebastian. "That you are not addressing whom you think. Please let us by."

"I'll move if _Amelia _tells me to."

Anya knew they were trapped. With all these people around, Sebastian couldn't just knock Eugene out of the way; it would cause a disturbance and draw too much attention to Ciel. And Anya knew without a doubt that Eugene would be able to recognize her voice, just as he had recognized her beneath all of the hair dye and frills.

Suddenly, an idea struck her. Just as Ciel began to come to her defense, she stepped forward and began making random signs with her hands.

"'As you can see, young man,'" Sebastian pretended to translate. "'I am unable to tell you to do that. I cannot speak at all, and haven't since birth.'" Anya sent him a sincerely grateful smile. _Butler to the rescue once again._

Eugene didn't look convinced, but he finally stepped away from the doorway, unable to do anything else.

"There's a good lad," Sebastian said as he ushered Ciel and Anya into the early morning air. "I am truly sorry. If we see this Anya of yours, we'll be sure to send her along to your master's house."

Anya knew she shouldn't look back, but risked a glance over her shoulder anyway. Eugene was outlined against the light spilling from the door. His silhouette was rigid, fists clenched tightly at his sides. He looked so hurt and alone. Anya almost ran back to him, to explain everything, but was held back by both Sebastian's restraining arm and the still-fresh feel of his whip slicing through her skin. She faced forward and didn't look back again.

* * *

><p>Eugene watched the three of them disappear into the gloom of early morning. He felt cheated; that <em>had<em> been Anya, but who were those two with her, and why had they lied for her? The Earl of Phantomhive… that boy couldn't be the feared Queen's Watchdog? The truth came to him like a signal flare. _The demon in Anya bewitched them, too._

Yes, Eugene still believed that his friend Anya was with them. But he knew without a doubt that the "Incident" had been caused by an evil spirit possessing his best friend's body. He had thought that when they drove her out, the demon had left, too. That's why the entire household had been searching for her, ready to welcome her home.

Clearly, the demon was still inside her.

"Eugene! Get over here!" a deep voice cried. The stable boy sighed and went to face the music; Count Rosenbloom was waiting by his own carriage. Eugene stepped forward with a bow to his master. The Count was a healthy man in his mid-fifties, with iron grey hair and eyes to match. He looked down on Eugene with contempt.

"What took you so long? I've been waiting here for ten minutes!" Eugene flinched at the steel in his master's voice.

"Sir," he began. "I saw Anya. She was here."

"What? Why didn't you bring her to me, you simpleton?"

"There were others with her, sir. The demon has bewitched the Earl of Phantomhive; she is under his protection."

Rosenbloom cursed. "I want that girl back, boy. Are you sure they hadn't kidnapped her? I never fully believed your ridiculous notion about that spirit possessing her."

"I'm sure, sir. She would have had ample opportunity to run, or give me a sign. She pretended to be mute, and not know me. The Earl's butler called her _Amelia_."

"Her mother's name," the Count grumbled. "But how did she know it? She never asked questions about her parents when she was young, and nobody would speak to her after she turned seven. I made sure that she would never find out."

"Find out what, sir?"

"Never you mind, boy. Just get her back. When we get back to the house, take as many men as you need and go to Phantomhive estate. Take her by force if necessary, but bring her home in one piece."

"Of course, sir. I'll bring Anya home."

* * *

><p>"That bastard."<p>

Ciel sat rigidly in the carriage seat across from Anya. His expression made the maid even more uncomfortable after recounting the evening's events. The Earl looked angry enough to kill.

"When I see him again, I swear I'll-!"

"My lord," Sebastian cut in from the driver's seat. "Forgive me, but you may want to save that sentiment for another time. It will be quite some time before we reach the manor, and the two of you have been through a lot tonight." Ciel grumbled, but fell silent. Anya fiddled with her skirts. Just retelling the story had shaken her up. The memory of Alois's touch made her want to scrub every inch of her skin until it was raw; anything to forget what had almost happened.

She absently touched her fingers to her lips, the pressure bringing back the feel of Alois's forceful kiss. Her very first kiss, and it was stolen by an insane, cross-dressing freak of nature who had kidnapped her and almost r-

No. She refused to even let herself think the word. It hadn't happened, and she was safe now. She needed to focus on more important things, like helping her young master catch Trancy and finding out what those visions meant. Had they been real? They couldn't have been; they showed that Anya had been _dead._

_Then again,_ she thought. _I should have died when I was run through with a spear. What on Earth is going on?_

"Anya," Ciel said sleepily. "Do you think that boy will cause us any trouble?"

"He's just a stable hand," Anya explained offhandedly. "He wouldn't have any influence on the Count; he never listens to anyone."

Her run-in with Eugene had done little to settle her nerves. It was like her wounds hadn't disappeared at all. The cut on her head had closed and healed itself, and the swelling on her face had completely faded, but her skull was pounding and her skin crawled with a nervous energy. Too much had happened in the past day. Even Sebastian had waved off her questions about the strange men with an order to let him relax on the drive home. The whole situation made her head hurt.

To take her mind off of things, she gazed out the window. The sun would be rising in a few hours. They had been up all night.

Anya faced Ciel again to suggest that they catch some sleep on the way home, and found that her young master had beaten her to it. As she nodded off in sync with Ciel's soft snoring, Anya felt an overwhelming need to talk to Finny. A bit of hope sounded wonderful right now. She was going to need it.

* * *

><p>Sebastian gently shook his young master awake. Ciel wiped the sleep from his eyes and groggily let himself be helped out of the carriage just as the sun broke over the horizon. The staff had gathered around to welcome them home.<p>

"Was your trip successful, young master?"

Everyone stared at Tanaka, who had spoken for the first time in days. Apparently, the chamomile and some good, refreshing sleep had treated him well. Then they turned their attention to Ciel for a response.

"We know who the murderer is," Ciel said around a huge yawn. "They got away, but we'll catch them. Yes, what is it, Finian?" Finny had been jumping up and down madly with one arm raised high above his head. He ceased his rabid hopping to ask his question.

"Sir, where's Anya?"

Ciel's eyes hardened. He glanced at the carriage and back at Finny a few times before answering.

"Anya is in the carriage. She has been through a lot tonight," he said carefully. "So we shouldn't wake her just yet. Finny, could you take her to her room? Mey-rin, Bardroy, and Mr. Tanaka, I need you to fill me in on everything that happened in my absence. Sebastian, stable the horses and put the coach in the carriage house, and then join us in the study." Everyone threw smart salutes before rushing off to do their duties.

Finny leaned through the open door of the carriage and lifted the slumbering Anya into his arms. She curled up against his chest, stirring slightly. He carried on to the house as smoothly as possible so as not to wake her. He had some trouble getting doors open, but he eventually arrived at Anya and Mey-rin's room.

While Anya had been away, the maid, cook, and gardener had gotten together to make the accommodations a little more homey to celebrate her new job. Finny had put cornflowers and lilac in every available container and placed them around the room, simply because he knew that Anya liked those the best. Mey-rin had found some indigo dye and turned the plain white bed sheets into a royal purple. Bard, unable to think of anything else, had taken a book of poems from Sebastian's lessons and left it on the small table next to Anya's bed.

Holding Anya tightly (but not _too _tightly) with one arm, Finny used his other to quickly draw back the violet bedspread. He gently laid her down and tucked her into bed. He smoothed the hair back from her forehead and, after a slight hesitation, gave Anya a soft kiss on the cheek.

If Finny had expected a reaction, it would have been a slight unrest. Maybe she would turn over in her sleep, or throw an arm over the pillow. In his more fanciful imaginings, Finny supposed she might have even smiled a bit.

What he had not expected was for Anya to snap into wakefulness, scream at the top of her lungs, and haul off and punch him in the face as hard as she could. Finny fell back, unhurt but off-balance. Anya stood over him, eyes flashing with wild panic until she woke fully.

"Ohmygoodness," she panicked. "Finny, I- I mean- when did-? I'm so sorry!" Anya knelt down beside her friend, still apologizing. She brought a tentative hand to his face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm alright," Finny promised. "Super strong, remember? Nice punch, by the way." He got to his feet and helped Anya up.

"I'm the one who should apologize," Finny said sheepishly. "I tried not to wake you, because the young master said you'd had a rough night."

"It isn't your fault," Anya insisted. "I-I think I was having a nightmare about… what happened at the gala. I just need some time to myself, I guess."

Finny shifted his weight from foot to foot. He scratched his head. He twiddled his thumbs. Anya sighed.

"Just say it."

"What happened to you, Anya?" Finny finally burst out with his question. Anya gestured that they sit on the edge of the bed. She took a deep breath.

"You don't have to tell me," Finny said awkwardly. He was desperately curious, but this was obviously a serious subject.

"I want to tell you," she whispered. "When I told the young master, I nearly broke down. But I think talking about it with you could help me calm down, so I won't go crazy and hit anyone else."

Finny reached for her hand, and Anya flinched involuntarily. She gave Finny an apologetic look, but didn't take his hand. She scooted a little farther away from him before closing her eyes and recalling the events of the previous evening.

Finny sat silently through the story, but his face told Anya every word that he wouldn't say. When she described how she had found herself as Alois's captive, Finny protectively took her hand again. She accepted it this time, and he squeezed her hand lightly in assurance.

Anya had told Finny everything- skipping over the strange dream she had experienced. She hesitated, a small tear rolling down her cheek. She sighed and laid her head against Finny's shoulder.

"Do you believe in miracles?" she whispered finally.

Finny released her hand. Anya felt a twinge of loss until he brought the hand up to stroke her hair _exactly the way Eugene used to_. Anya mentally shook herself as she tried to process Finny's reply.

"Of course," he said, as serious as Anya had ever seen him. "It was a miracle when Sebastian found me; a miracle when I got this job. And," he added. "I think that you are a miracle on this house. I know that I'm perfectly worthless in the garden, and Mey-rin breaks things all the time, and Bard can't cook anything but charcoal. Mr. Sebastian and Mr. Tanaka were the only real Phantomhive house servants.

"But now you're here," Finny continued. "You can cook and fold sheets and rake leaves without snapping the rake." He pulled back from Anya and sat on the bed facing her. "And you went with the young master and Mr. Sebastian on a mission from the _Queen!_ None of us have ever done that. You were kidnapped by that jerk Alois Trancy, and I've only seen you shed this one tear." He brought a hand to Anya's face, brushing the lone tear away with his thumb.

"You're a miracle, Anya, and you're also my best friend in the whole world." Finny drew her into a comforting hug, and Anya decided that the strange dream could wait. _It was just a dream, after all. Wasn't it? If it was true, I wouldn't be alive!_

And Anya had lots and lots of living she wanted to do. And dreams were only dreams, after all.

Finny drew back slowly and finally stood. "I guess I'll leave you, then. The young master will be expecting me. He said to make sure you got some good rest." He exited with a wave and closed the door softly. Anya sat on the edge of her bed. Her hand gravitated to her face, where her fingertips rested lightly on her cheek. The skin seemed to tingle, a warm, fuzzy feeling.

She smiled as she collapsed back into bed, still fully clothed and with shoes on.

* * *

><p>The days passed quickly at Phantomhive Manor. The Earl and his butler were constantly out and about, searching for Alois Trancy and Claude Faustus. While they were away, Mr. Tanaka and Anya were basically in charge of things. Anya quickly picked up the usual rhythm of life as a Phantomhive maid; she cooked with Bard, cleaned with Mey-rin, and spent hours with Finny in the greenhouse. When she was tired, she had a relaxing cup of tea with Mr. Tanaka, whose speech she was slowly beginning to understand.<p>

Although she and Sebastian still argued about it from time to time, Anya was given permission to wear what she wished; Miss Nina, an energetic and eccentric tailor, had made her some warm winter work clothes that didn't restrict her movement. She now owned three very similar outfits consisting of a warm long-sleeved shirt, trousers, a fleece jacket, and sturdy shoes.

"The modern woman should be independent," Nina proclaimed. "All of the ideals about lace and frills are all well and good for a lady whose only job is to look good, but a real working woman needs a practical, unobtrusive ensemble that won't get in the way, but is still stylish." These clothes proved to be perfect for any type of work, from cooking to watering to tea-making.

During her scant free time, Anya would sit in the library and read all she could. The book of poems that Bard had given her was full of heartfelt passages written by a Miss Dickinson, and Anya was in love with them. There was one poem in particular that had captured her heart; _'Hope' is the thing with feathers._ She and Finny read it together on many occasions, as the words sang out to both of them with certain clarity.

Anya had never felt so happy, or so completely accepted. Even upon Sebastian and the Earl's many returns, Anya felt as if she were welcoming family home. Although she could never bring herself to feel overly friendly toward Sebastian, they were wonderful co-workers and had great respect for one another.

Earl Phantomhive, however, was a different story. Between his normal duties as the head of England's Underground businesses and tracking down Alois, he was hardly ever home. But when he was, he would always put on a smile and let Anya fill him in on the happenings during his absence. The maid still felt the impetus of being a Phantomhive maid, but Ciel made her feel more like an older sister than a servant.

She was always up at the crack of dawn to see Ciel and Sebastian off on their outings, and waited in the quiet evening hours after sunset for them to return. She would catch him trying to eat his dessert before dinner and falling asleep over his work, and she would cluck and chide until he repented. When she was being perfectly honest with herself, Anya sometimes felt more like Ciel's _mother_ than his maid.

When she made this comment to Sebastian one day, about two weeks into November, he smiled and simply said that he understood the sentiment. The manor continued to be a place of peace, love and laughter for Anya.

On December 12, Anya came to the kitchens to help with breakfast. Ciel had returned late last night from a visit to Scotland Yard, and she wanted to prepare an enormous breakfast. She bounded into the kitchen ready for action, only to find the rest of the staff (minus Sebastian) conspiring over the countertop. Sneaking up behind them, she made a grab for the object they were huddled around.

"What's this, then?" she inquired. Startled, Finny, Bard, Mey-rin, and Tanaka all snapped to attention as the head maid snatched the object of their attention. It was a small, rectangular box, half wrapped in delicate green paper. There was a card on the table as well. Under the panicked gaze of her co-workers, Anya read the inscription aloud.

"'To the Earl Phantomhive… on this, his _fifteenth birthday_'?" Anya breathed. Her eyes snapped up to meet each of her friends' in turn. They all flinched, expecting her to be angry with them. To their surprise, Anya beamed at them. "How wonderful! Why didn't you all _tell _me that the young master's birthday was approaching? I would've helped prepare the celebration!"

None of them replied. Bard and Finny stared at their shoes. Mey-rin blushed heavily and fiddled with her glasses. Anya felt the smile melt from her face. _What is wrong with all of them? _Finally, the remaining staff member spoke up.

"Anya, dear," Tanaka explained gently. Anya listened carefully, knowing this must be important for Mr. Tanaka to summon such energy. "The young master does not celebrate his birthday. It is a very hard day for him to remember."

Anya frowned, dropping the parcel back onto the table. She saw now that the box contained something from each person; Finny had pressed some flowers into a book, Bard had somehow created a small box of decent sweets, and Mey-rin had embroidered a handkerchief with the Phantomhive crest. Anya picked up Tanaka's gift and gasped.

It was a small photograph of a family sitting down to a picnic. A very handsome man (who wasn't very unlike Sebastian) was smiling at a kind faced woman on the checkered picnic blanket. Just to the left of the couple was another woman with shockingly red hair. She was smiling as well, but her eyes seemed sad.

In the very center, sprawled across the blanket with a huge white dog, was a small child who had to be Ciel.

The boy was sitting on the dog's back, grinning at the camera. His sparkling blue eyes were alive with laughter. Looking at this scene, Anya felt tears well up in her eyes. She pushed the photo away, afraid of soiling it with her tears.

"I wanted to give him something, too," she blurted. The others just stared at her. "What? Am I not allowed to? I know you all have been with the young master much longer than I have…"

"It's not like that," Bard interceded gently. "We didn't think the young master wanted you to know."

"About his birthday?"

"No," said Tanaka. "I'm sure he would have told you, but the subject of his birthday always brings up the Incident." Anya could almost hear the old man capitalizing the word. "The death of his parents, the fire, and the disappearance- It all started on today's date five years ago. That is why he doesn't like to celebrate, or even acknowledge, that day."

"I understand," Anya insisted, after the initial shock wore off. "But if you had told me _before, _I might have had time to get a present ready! I mean, next you'll be telling me that we won't be celebrating Christmas, either!"

Silence from the others. Anya groaned. _That _would need fixing. But what was she going to give Ciel? The others had all pitched in; there was no way she was going to be left out.

Bard seemed to read her thoughts, and grinned for the first time that morning. "Aw, you would never have to get him anything. You're an ace Phantomhive maid. We do this as a sort of apology for messing up all the time." Anya's face fell. "But, uh, you could if you wanted to," the chef backpedaled.

"What would I give him, though?" Anya mused. "You all give him something that is a part of you. Finny, you put so much time into your flowers. Mey-rin, I know how hard that embroidery is on your eyes. Bard, I can tell you actually took your time and put careful thought into the sweets. And Mr. Tanaka, that photo comes from your experience here serving the Phantomhives. Those are all special and unique to your personalities. I don't have anything unique or special to give."

"That's not true," Finny exclaimed. "_You _are special, Anya. You're nearly as good at your job as Sebastian! None of us have seen the young master so happy, and you caused that change in just a few days. And," he added. "Not one of us has ever been able to call him by his first name."

Anya flushed at his words. After the gala, it had become almost compulsory for Anya to address the Earls as such; her sisterly instincts didn't help the situation. After countless slip-ups and apologies, Ciel had finally allowed Anya to call him by his first name. He insisted that it was partially his and Sebastian's fault for drumming it into her head before the gala. And Anya had indeed begun to think of him as simply 'Ciel' in her thoughts.

The unbidden memory of Alois's voice in her ear crept to the forefront of Anya's mind. _What are you to him?_ Anya had answered the question truthfully; Ciel was a wonderful friend. Anya blinked. That was it.

"I'm his friend," she whispered, much too softly for the others to hear. "I guess the best I can do is keep working hard," she added, raising her voice. "I'll do my best to carry out my duties accurately and cheerfully; that is basically all I can do. We will all continue to serve Lord Phantomhive faithfully, and stay by his side until the end. That is the most important gift we can give."

The staff threw up a cheer, and then went about their duties. Bard got breakfast on the stove, and Mey-rin ran to set the table. Finny left to check on the young rosebuds in the greenhouse. Mr. Tanaka regressed into his more comfortable, natural attitude and wandered off to find some tea. As Sebastian entered the kitchen to assist Bard with breakfast, Anya slipped away to the library.

Because the master hadn't specifically ordered her not to celebrate, now had he?

* * *

><p>"And just what do you think you're doing?"<p>

Anya didn't even turn in the direction of the dark voice. It was all too familiar by now. She continued to browse the shelves from her precarious perch. She had found a rolling ladder, and was stretching as far as she could to grab a book that was just out of her reach. Giving up, she finally descended the ladder and addressed the surly butler.

"I can't quite reach that book," she said, as if that was enough explanation. "My arms are too short." Sebastian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. _Why does she answer every question _except _for the one I ask?_ He read the title on the spine of the book with only the quickest of glances: _Simple Desserts for the Modern Home._

"I have already prepared dessert for today's meal, Anya. You don't need to make anything."

Anya grumbled something, a light blush coloring her pale cheeks.

"What was that?"

"It's not for dessert," she mumbled. "Well, it is, but I wanted to make a cake." Sebastian made a sound of understanding, and then his signature smirk appeared on his face.

"As I said, I have already prepared dessert," Sebastian stated slowly. "Just because the young master does not wish to celebrate today, that does not mean that we are prohibited from it. Follow me, if you will."

Anya kept up with Sebastian well, until she realized where they were going; Sebastian's room. It was one of the very few places that the maid had not explored in the manor, and she was rather curious as to what she would find in there.

All in all, it was a perfectly normal room. Anya stood in the doorway while Sebastian dug around in the chest at the foot of the medium sized bed. A wash basin stood in the corner, and there was a light brown wardrobe against the far wall. There was no other furniture.

Anya slowly put one foot in front of the other and entered Sebastian's living quarters. _It doesn't reflect his personality at all, _she thought, shocked. _I would have expected something, anything personal, but it looks like he doesn't even sleep in here._ With her head up in the clouds, Anya absently tugged the wardrobe door.

Sebastian cried out a warning, but he was too late. Anya had been bowled over by a mountain of furry, fluffy kittens. They mewled and yowled at their strange visitor, who was so different from their butler friend. A baby calico settled on Anya's chest. It looked closely at her, and promptly sneezed in her face. Anya stared, and then burst out laughing.

"So!" she guffawed. "The big, scary, butler hides _cats _in his room? I was expecting something a little more frightening or tough!" She was suddenly silenced by a gloved hand clamping down tightly on her mouth. She was suddenly on her feet, wedged in between Sebastian and the wall. Her wide eyes flooded with tears as she struggled to push the butler away. Still muffling her cries of protest with his palm, Sebastian somehow captured both of Anya's wrists with one hand and pinned them above her head.

"You will not say a word," he hissed malevolently. "Not to the young master or anyone else." Anya shook her head as emphatically as she could, being pressed against the wall. Sebastian brought his face very close to hers, burning holes into her eyes. His burgundy eyes flamed with a garish fire that sent Anya's racing heart into fierce palpitations. "Are we clear?"

Anya squeaked her assent, and Sebastian abruptly released her and returned to the other side of the room to continue his search. It was if nothing at all had happened. Anya slid down the wall until she was huddled on the floor, paralyzed with fear.

"Ah, here it is," Sebastian said, and turned to face her. Stepping over the numerous prowling kittens, he presented a small platter to Anya. A delicious looking circular cake sat on the plate, doused with dark blue icing and dripping with chocolate. A white iced rose had been skillfully crafted in the center, with deep green sepals caressing the blossom.

Anya could only stare at the beautiful pastry. It was just like Sebastian to have already prepared a cake- or was it? Did she even really know this man at all? Just when she thought that they could be friends, he sprung this on her!

"Y-You," she sputtered. "You c-could have-!"

"What?" Sebastian replied innocently. "Been a bit gentler? I know for a fact that you are perfectly unharmed; even if you were, your injuries would heal overnight." Anya ignored the hand offered to her by the demon and found her feet once again.

"You," she huffed. "Could have thought of simply _asking me_ not to tell anyone! I wouldn't have sold you out, _Mister _Sebastian. I happen to like cats, although I'm a tad allergic to them." She carefully scooped up the calico kitten in her arms, and it immediately purred and nuzzled its face into her neck. Anya's eyes softened a bit.

"The thing I like most about them," she continued, to Sebastian's astonishment. "Is that they are impeccable judges of character. And since these cats obviously adore you, I won't tell anyone about them, or the fact that you attacked me. But mark my words, butler; I don't take kindly to this sort of behavior. And I thought you were better than that brute Alois."

Sebastian stiffened. "Please do not compare me to that boy. We are two completely different people."

"Then act like it!"

Sebastian blinked, and then ordered her to release the kitten and wash up in the basin. Grumbling, Anya complied. When she was finished, Sebastian shoved the cake platter into her hands.

"Since you haven't found a contribution to our celebration, I suppose I can at least allow you to deliver the cake, Anya."

Anya started for the door, but thought of something. Balancing the cake on one hand and the door with the other, she turned to look at her co-worker.

"Sebastian?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you call me Amelia at the Gala?"

Sebastian looked surprised, but quickly composed himself. "That was out of the blue. What brought that up?"

"Oh, I don't know," Anya exclaimed, exasperated. "I just wanted to know _how you knew!_"

"Knew what?" Sebastian asked, for once sincerely curious. Anya hovered awkwardly, halfway out of the room. She flushed and gazed at her shoes.

"My mother's name," she finally answered. "I- I think her name was Amelia. How did you know to call me that? If you had called me anything else, I would have frozen up and Eugene never would have left it alone."

Sebastian stroked his chin, lost in thought. "I had no idea it was your mother's name. You were mumbling quite a bit when you came around after your… encounter. One of the things you said was the name 'Amelia'. So naturally, it was the first alias that came to mind." He paused, deliberating.

"Anya, do you remember anything from that night?"

Anya swallowed thickly. "Alois kidnapped me, and then you found us. Claude was going to kill me… I was counting the chimes of some clock… And then that man- William wasn't it? - came smashing through the window with some sort of red monster." Anya's breath hitched. "William… I think he stabbed me with some sort of spear. I thought I was dead, but then I started having this dream."

Anya described her dream to Sebastian, including the part about her voice telling her to wake up. The butler was still for a moment, and then began pacing.

"You dreamed that you were born _dead_? That's no small matter. I happen to believe that your dream was a real memory; don't ask me how. But if that's the case…" He stopped pacing and looked at Anya. Then he _really _looked at her.

"Please don't take this the wrong way," Sebastian started apologetically. "But are you entirely sure that you're a human being?"

Anya gaped at him. Her entire face flushed crimson, and she spun on her heel to exit the room. On her way out, she slammed the door just a little bit harder than was necessary.

"So she takes it the wrong way," Sebastian muttered to his precious cats, which had scattered at the scary noise. "Typical. I only meant that since that was her record… of course it was true. But to be born dead and still be alive… how interesting." The cat blinked, and sneezed again.

* * *

><p>Anya stormed down the hall. <em>Just what was he insinuating? <em> She quickly arrived at the study door and rapped on it sharply with her knuckles.

"Come in," came a tired voice. Anya composed herself before entering; there was no need to burst in like an quarrelsome child. Ciel looked up from his desk as she entered, and abandoned his papers once he saw the cake.

"Good morning, young master," Anya chirped. She curtsied quickly and brought the dessert forward. "Sebastian made this for _today's dessert._ We all hope you like it." She realized that she had forgotten the plates and silver, but found them waiting on the coffee table. _Darn that Sebastian! Is he psychic? _Anya deftly sliced a piece of cake, careful not to disturb the gorgeous rose.

"Here you are, my lord. Happy birthday."

Ciel had been silent since his maid's entrance, and just blinked at the cake before taking a small taste. He even smiled a bit. Anya loved it when Ciel smiled, because it made him look so much younger and happier.

"My lord?" Anya ventured. Her knuckles were turning white from clenching her fists so tightly. "I know that you don't like to celebrate this day." She waved off Ciel's answer. "Please, milord, let me say this. We all want you to be happy, so we won't bring up any bad things. But we want to celebrate, because today is the day you were born. If today hadn't happened, where would any of us be?"

Anya had, of course, learned of Bard and Mey-rin's harsh pasts. They had helped her come to terms that _everyone _in this house had problems.

"Bard would probably be somewhere in America with no job, or he might even be dead now. Mey-rin would still be killing needlessly just to get by, and it would be breaking her heart. Finny… who knows where Finny would be? And I would have died in that storm if you hadn't taken me in. This day that you don't like to remember is so important to us, because it means we get to have you in our lives."

Anya took a bold step forward, almost touching the Earl's desk. "The others all have gifts for you, but there is nothing I could do to thank you for all you've done. The only thing I can think of is to continue serving you as well as I can. I promise that I will stay by your side and serve you for as long as I am alive, for I owe you this life. We all feel that way."

Ciel had been caught by surprise when Anya entered the study. He had actually been about to ring for her to discuss a matter that was very important to both of them; his visit to the Yard. Even so, her speech had moved him. Willing the light blush on his cheeks to disappear, he cleared his throat loudly.

"Anya, you don't know what your words mean for me to hear," he said. "There are other things we must discuss, however. You know that I had the Yard do some investigation in our case?" Anya nodded. "While we were there, I remembered to ask a certain officer about any cases from thirteen to fifteen years ago involving… runaway horses."

Anya flinched involuntarily. Why had Ciel asked about that? The case had been closed before Anya was born; there were no leads. All he was doing was opening up old wounds.

"I already told you everything about the case," Anya snapped bitterly. "My father was killed by an ownerless horse that was never found. The case went cold after only a few weeks."

Ciel slid a file out from under a mound of papers and pushed it across his desk to Anya. She gingerly took the paper in her hands. It was a report on a decade's worth of horse related accidents. The victims' names were printed in dark black ink next to the date of the occurrence. Anya's eyes scrolled down the page, looking for Ian Criel. She paused, shaking herself.

_That was just a dream, no matter what Sebastian says. I never knew my parents' names._

"Which one is he?" she whispered. "I never knew their names; by the time I was old enough to wonder about it, everyone was avoiding me." She looked at Ciel with pleading eyes. He folded his fingers.

"Ian Criel."

Anya felt her heart stop beating for what seemed an eternity. She frantically searched the page again. There was no Ian Criel anywhere.

"No, he isn't on there," Ciel assured her. He produced a second document for her to examine. It was a short profile on a young man with long brown hair tied back in a loose ponytail. His mischievous green eyes flashed at the camera, and he seemed to be looking right at Anya. The maid's breath hitched as she read the caption: _Ian James Criel, 21. Cause of Death: Unknown._

"Your father was not killed by some horse, Anya. No one knows how he died."

Anya slumped forward, only just catching herself on the edge of the desk. "But," she croaked around the tears that threatened to spill over. "The Count always said-!"

"The Count lied to you, Anya." Ciel's voice was sharp, but a little distant. "In the past half a century, there hasn't been a single hit-and-run horse accident in London that hasn't been resolved."

Anya found one shimmering thread of sense floating through the chaos of her mind, and latched on to it.

"My mother," she slurred. "Was her name…? Amelia?"

Ciel actually looked surprised. "Why, yes. I thought you didn't know their…" He jumped. "Why is that name familiar?"

"Sebastian," Anya explained. "He called me that to keep Eugene away. I had this dream…"

After the lengthy explanation, Ciel rocked back in his chair. What Anya had dreamed sounded impossible, but how had her subconscious somehow conjured the names of both of her parents? He took Ian's file back from Anya, looking it over for more information. All it had was his birth information, marriage license, and general health information.

He sighed. Nothing useful here. He glanced at some birth records he had procured; Anya's time of birth, witness of birth, location of birth, parents, hair color, eye color…

Ciel whipped Ian's file back in front of his eye. _Hair color: brown. Eye color: green._

"Anya," he enthused. "In your dream, Miss Tolliver said that you had your father's eyes, didn't she? Your father had _green _eyes. Yours are definitely not green; I don't think I've ever seen eyes quite like yours. This is proof that your dream must have been only that!"

Anya all but snatched the papers from Ciel's hands, scrutinizing the finer details of her birth. She looked up at Ciel, and grinned as widely as he had ever seen her.

"That's it," she cheered. "Ciel, you're an absolute genius! I never would have caught that." She clasped his hand in hers. "You don't know the load you've taken off of my shoulders, milord. Thank you!"

Ciel blushed. Anya noticed and withdrew her hand with a smile. She had begun to think that she was going mad! Now she relaxed into her chair, contentedly gazing out the window at the garden. The sky was cloudy, and the first snow of winter had just begun. Anya watched as the soft flakes began to settle on the branches of the new fir tree that she and Finny had planted. In seconds, it looked like a Christmas card come to life.

Except for the half dozen or so guns barely poking from the needles. Anya's brain kicked into overdrive. Her first instinct was to freak out, but she forced herself to retain her calm posture and facial expression.

"My lord," she said with strained nonchalance. "Forgive me."

She launched herself over the desk at her employer, tackling him to the ground as the window shattered above their heads.

* * *

><p><strong>Oooh, another cliffy! Well, you all should expect this by now. I'm just sadistic like that. Speaking of, don't ask me <em>why<em> Alois took Anya's dress; I simply don't know yet.**

**Moony: Are you gonna turn it into some sort of plot twist or something?**

**Hmmm... dunno. I don't want to really bring Alois back in... but I might. Who knows? Okie-doke! Merry Christmas, all you fanfictioneers!**

**Moony: And to all: R&R!**


	6. Chapter 6

**zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz Oh, hi there! Sorry , I've been nodding off a lot lately.**

**Moony: Because you've been staying up until two every night trying to piece together a plot.**

***yawn* Shut up. It's two _thirty, _thank you. And I've worked my butt off to get this up. So since I'm about to pass out but don't want to wait any longer, here y'all are.**

**Moony: Maya does not own Kuro/Balck Butler. She wishes dearly that she does, and she will probably be dreaming this chapter sometime in the next fifteen minutes.**

* * *

><p>Sebastian was resting in the corner of his room, surrounded by his beautiful pets. It was during calm times like these that he liked to simply relax and listen to the sounds of the house. He could hear the squeaky sound of silver being polished, the bubble of boiling water on the stove, and the ever faint turning of yellowed pages; apparently Finian had taken some time to read in the library.<p>

Sebastian sighed his approval. In the past weeks, the young gardener had progressed wonderfully in his studies. Sebastian supposed that Anya's love for books and poetry had rubbed off on him, because he had constantly caught the two of them in the library poring over Poe, Shakespeare, Dickinson, and countless other poets. They would frantically mark whatever page they were on with whatever was on hand; a hair ribbon, or a scrap of paper. Anya had even used a feather once. And speaking of Anya...

A Phantomhive butler did not, under any circumstances, eavesdrop on his master. But a butler with exceptional hearing could hardly avoid overhearing a particularly spirited tirade from a shrill teenage girl, could he? The girl's devotion truly impressed Sebastian. Every word rang with emotion and veritable sincerity, and this made the butler grin. It was not often that someone gave the Earl a piece of their mind, and Lord Phantomhive's reactions were always amusing. Sebastian could practically feel the stinging heat of embarrassment glowing from his young lord's face.

As the conversation quieted, Sebastian idly ran his fingers through his pets' soft fur. He picked up the important bits of information; he had, of course, known already that the events described by Anya's Cinematic Record were truthful, but then there was the question of her eyes. Eyes like those would be hard to mistake, even for a dead infant. So why had Miss Tolliver said that Anya had her father's eyes?

As Anya celebrated their incorrect conclusion that her dream was false, Sebastian theorized on how the story could be possible. Anya Criel was one hundred percent human, as far as Sebastian could tell. She had no extraordinary strength, senses, or skills; she was, however, and incredibly speedy healer. That was the one thing that left the butler with any doubts of the maid's humanity. No human could possibly recover from injuries that quickly.

And yet, even her heartbeat was completely normal. Sebastian closed his eyes, sifting through the creaks and the falling snow to find Anya's fluttering heart. It was calm, but still strong. Suddenly, it launched into violent palpitations; she was panicking. Something was very wrong. Sebastian was on his feet in half a second. In another half a second, he was in the corridor to the Earl's study. He barely processed Anya's gentle apology before knocking the door right off its hinges.

* * *

><p>Anya shoved Ciel to the ground, trying to keep him low. The maid squeezed her eyes shut. She heard the bullets shatter the window, and tensed herself for the biting rain of glass... that never came. Cautiously, Anya pried her eyes open to find Ciel pinned beneath her, breathless but unhurt. His eye looked right past her to someone hovering above them. A familiar hand took her elbow, lifting her off of the Earl and steering her beyond the edge of the ruined window.<p>

"Anya, tell the others that we're under attack," Sebastian snapped, brushing shards of glass from his shoulders. He lifted the Earl into his arms like a child. "When they all know, go to your room, and _stay there_." He spirited Ciel from the room, supposedly to a secure location.

Anya stood frozen for only a second before her brain kicked back in. She broke into a run and cantered to the kitchens. Bard, Mey-rin, and Tanaka were sitting on their knees, sipping tea. When Anya burst in, breathless, the younger two sprang to their feet.

"A-Attack," Anya wheezed. They both nodded gravely before dashing off in opposite directions. As she left, Mey-rin called over her shoulder at her roommate.

"Find Finny, and then hide! Quickly!"

She remembered Finny saying something about going to the library earlier; that was her best bet. She ran through the enormous house, following her memorized route to her favorite room. Fear and anxiety pushed her legs to run faster than she would have thought possible, and she reached the library in mere moments. Just as she reached for the large oak door, the gardener flung it open, narrowly missing his friend.

"What's going on?" he demanded. "I heard shouting."

"Sebastian says we're under attack," Anya explained, catching her breath. "Someone just tried to shoot the Earl from the garden!"

Hearing this, Finny's eyes hardened. "I'm going to join the others," he growled. Anya took a step back. This was the first time she had seen her friend really angry, and it was actually rather frightening. As he started down the way Anya had come, his eye was caught by a dark stain on the carpet. He swung back around to study Anya.

"Are you bleeding?"

The maid checked herself over; sure enough, there was a surprisingly large cut right under her knee. She had been so scared and distracted, she hadn't even noticed it.

"I must have cut myself on the broken glass," she realized. "The window shattered when they shot, so-"

"I understand," Finny cut her off. Despite his words, he looked extremely upset. "You need to get the first aid kit from my room. I'd show you, but the others need me now." He turned to run, but Anya caught him and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Be careful," she sniffed. "If you get yourself killed, I will _never_ forgive you."

Finny placed his hands on her shoulders and grinned cheekily. "Come on, Anya. Have a little faith; I'm a Phantomhive servant!" He quickly kissed her on the forehead and scrambled off to find his comrades.

Anya smiled sadly, and started walking (or, as her adrenaline spiked brain finally registered the pain from her cut, limping) in the direction of the servants' living quarters.

* * *

><p>Eugene Tolliver kept his head low. The other dozen or so men he had brought with him were battling it out with the guards of the manor, and now was the perfect time to mobilize. He crawled through the shrubbery on his stomach, creeping along to the back gate. What seemed to be a servant entrance door was directly in his sights. He just had to make it across a few yards of open ground without being seen, and he would be in.<p>

A chilling scream from the other side of the garden was cut off with a gunshot. _Poor saps_, he thought_. I hate to use them as decoys, but what else can I do?_ The count had ordered him to locate and recapture Anya, and he needed any security personnel properly distracted.

Clutching his satchel close to his chest, Eugene rolled himself to the door. He sprang to his feet and flattened his body against the wall, waiting to be detected. Silence. The stable boy unsheathed the hunting knife from his belt, clenching it tightly in his fist. He gingerly turned the handle on the door, letting himself in. He entered a dimly lit hallway lined with doors. He quietly opened the first one and found a small bedroom with plain, sparse furnishings. For some reason, there was a huge pile of cats on the bed. They started yowling at Eugene, so he closed the door tightly on them.

_Could one of these rooms be Anya's?_

The thought led Eugene to explore the next room. It was another large, single bedroom. He checked the closet; shiny black shoes and suits. _Definitely _not Anya's. Across the hall he found a simple, messy room with two beds. On the shared nightstand was a closed leather book. Eugene picked it up, ruffling the pages. A scarlet ribbon fluttered into his open hand. At the very end of the ribbon, someone had embroidered the letters A.C.

_Anya Criel._

Eugene jumped at the uneven footsteps in the hallway. He clambered into the wardrobe and closed the door behind him. He left it open just a hair so that he could see. His bag was crammed against his face, and a large box dug into his back; in the dim light he could barely make out a big red cross. Before he could wonder why someone would keep their first aid kit in their wardrobe, the door squeaked open and someone entered.

* * *

><p>Anya let herself into Finny and Bard's room without any trouble. She had been in there on several occasions to borrow books, cooking materials, and, once, Bard's flamethrower. The memory of the stubborn ice-slicked steps almost made Anya laugh, but not quite. She was much too worried about her friends.<p>

Of course, in the time that Anya had been there, there had been numerous attacks on the manor. Once, a lone assassin had snuck up on her while she was making breakfast with Bard. Needless to say, he'd gone down in an instant. _Who knew that frying pans were so dangerous?_

Anya continued to be amazed by the staff's blasé outlook on the attacks. They would detect intruders at breakfast, take them out, and be back and cleaned up in time to prepare tea. Although Anya never took part in these skirmishes, Ciel assured her that her assistance was unnecessary. And the maid knew that Sebastian and the others were more than capable of protecting the house. Why? Because they were servants of the Earl of Phantomhive!

"And yet, the maid can't even find a first aid kit," Anya grumbled. She had searched under the beds, in the dresser, and even in the connected facilities, but she could not find that box. And that was bad, because her knee had started to throb, and was still bleeding quite a bit.

"I give up," she groaned, sinking onto the edge of Finny's bed. She spotted the book on the bedside table, and instantly brightened. She and Finny had been reading it last week; it was a book of Shakespeare's tragedies. She decided to pick up where they left off, in case there were any interesting words she needed to look up.

"That's funny…" Anya flipped through the inky pages. "I could have sworn I marked the page with one of the ribbons Mey-rin embroidered…"

In the wardrobe, Eugene flinched. He was still clutching that ribbon in his fingers. In fact, his knuckles were white. _She's acting like Anya! _The evil spirit didn't seem to be controlling her actions at the moment, but he could never be sure. Stuffing the ribbon into his pocket, he gripped the knife firmly.

A small shift in movement caught Anya's attention. She glanced at the wardrobe that sat against the far wall. _Maybe the first aid kit is in there… or maybe one of Sebastian's cats got loose!_

"Hello?" Anya called. She stood stiffly and hobbled over to the wardrobe. "Are you in there, kitty kitty?" A small, feline noise emanated from behind the door. "Come on now," Anya chuckled, pulling open the door. "We need to get you back to your owner before Ciel-"

Eugene burst from the wardrobe, slamming Anya against the wall. She struggled, only to shut down as the cool tip of a blade tickled her neck. The tip of the knife trailed up and down her throat, making her shudder.

"And how have you been, _Lady Amelia?_" Eugene sneered. Still pressing his knife to Anya's skin, he forced her around to face the door. "Are you going to come quietly, or are we doing this the hard way?"

While he talked, Anya slowly brought her hand to the doorknob. If she could make a break for it… Now! She wrenched away from Eugene, the point of his knife just barely piercing her skin. She tore the door open, and was halfway out before Eugene caught her. He wrapped both arms around her middle and dragged her bodily backwards. His strong hands, so capable with his horses, reeled the terrified girl back into the room, slamming the door behind them. Anya was officially panicking. She couldn't speak. Eugene was here. He had a knife. And he was obviously not afraid to hurt her.

"Looks like we're doing this the hard way," he grunted, pinning her face down on the floor. "Don't try anything else funny." He slung his satchel over his head, withdrawing a coil of rope. He used his weight to keep the squirming maid down and drew her arms behind her back. He ignored the small noises of pain she made, and expertly knotted the ropes around her so that she was completely helpless; she couldn't move an inch unless Eugene said so.

He hauled Anya to her feet, digging his fingers deep into the rope to hold her fast. As he pushed her toward the door, Anya finally found her voice. Her piercing scream was cut off by a rough, calloused hand. Suddenly she was leaning against the wall again, staring up into Eugene's hazel eyes. She couldn't help but flash back to only hours ago, being in this same position with Sebastian. Anya hadn't thought it possible, but she would rather relive the nightmare with Sebastian a hundred times than be held there by Eugene.

"You always were stubborn, I'll give you that," he murmured softly. For a moment, Eugene looked ready to cry. "I'm sorry Anya, but I promise that we're going to save you." Anya tried to protest, but he only tightened his hold on her jaw. There was still plenty of rope dangling from Anya's wrists, so Eugene looped it around her mouth, gagging her. Still, she struggled, twisting out of his hold at every move he made.

_Will nothing make this demon give up? _Eugene thought, wanting to tear his hair out. He watched his captive's eyes dart around wildly, looking for any weakness in his hold or stance. _That's it. If it can't see, it can't run. _He took the ribbon from his pocket and quickly knotted it over the struggling girl's eyes. Instantly, she stopped moving, too scared to even move.

"That's better," Eugene approved. "Now be nice, and we'll have you home in no time." He barely touched his knife to the base of her throat, and grinned as she flinched. He would have some fun punishing the demon later.

* * *

><p>"Only fifteen minutes and I'm down for the count," Finny sighed. "What is wrong with me today?" While Bard and Mey-rin were at the top of their game, taking out their opponents in seconds, Finny had let himself become distracted. He limped in the direction of his room, favoring his left leg.<p>

He supposed he had been wondering about Anya; if she had found the first aid kit, if she was feeling better, if she thought that he had been forward earlier. He had been careless, and gotten himself shot. The bullet had only grazed him, but it still hurt. And it had been enough to make him mad enough to completely trample the guy who shot him.

_I hope Anya's still in my room,_ he thought. _I'm no good at dressing wounds. _It was nice to have someone to lean on, but that happened every day around here. Finny relied on everyone else to help him, from Sebastian's careful instructions to Anya's help with reading. What was almost an entirely different feeling, however, was having someone rely on _him._

Yes, he did his job protecting the young master just like everyone else. But sometimes, he just felt useless. Finny was positive that the other staff members could perform just as well without him; he was just the muscle. But having Anya around made him feel needed on a much deeper level. They were friends and partners; they needed each other and helped each other through the worst times. Prime example: Alois Trancy.

Anya had been distant from everyone for days after the gala, and only Finny knew the full extent of why that was. Finny had unknowingly made it his mission to make Anya forget about what had happened to her, and to protect her from anything else. The girl made him feel so protective, and that wasn't altogether a bad thing. It was different from protecting the house, because everybody did that. Finny took pride in the fact that it was him who had helped her open up again, _him _who had made her laugh.

Finny finally arrived at the back door and let himself in. As he made his way to his room, he heard a strange noise coming from Sebastian's room. Curious, he opened the door. A score of cats flew past him, running directly out of the house through the door that Finny had carelessly left open.

"… Well, Mister Sebastian won't be happy with me, will he?" Finny finally managed. He shrugged it off and approached his room. Just as he rested his hand on the knob, he heard someone inside speak. This shouldn't have shocked him, because Anya was supposedly still in there. But the voice didn't belong to Anya. This was a man's voice.

Finny deliberated what to do; should he go alert Sebastian and the others? This was a rare occurrence. Almost no one had ever actually been able to get inside the manor. He backed away from the door slowly, ready to go find Bard or maybe even Tanaka, but a new noise stopped him dead. A smaller, higher voice was yelping in pain.

Now _that _was Anya's voice. Finny's heart dropped to his shoes, and then shot right into the sky with panic and anger. Without any more hesitation, he yanked the door open with all his strength, sending it flying over his head and through the wall behind him.

The boy in the room jumped back, dragging Anya with him. Finny looked on with increasing horror and rage. Anya was bound, gagged, and blindfolded. The intruder held a knife dangerously close to her neck, which was trickling blood from a small cut. And her knee was still bleeding badly.

"Get out of here, servant," the boy yelled. He tightened his grip on Anya. "My master has no business with you."

"Let her go," Finny commanded, his voice like a blade itself. "You let her go, or I swear I will tear you apart." He took a threatening step forward. Scared stiff, Eugene shoved the point of his knife even farther up Anya's neck, until her chin was forced up painfully. She whimpered something that sounded vaguely like Finny's name.

"You're going to let me out of here," Eugene shrilled. "My master wants her alive, but that doesn't mean she has to be unhurt." Finny moved just an inch forward, testing the boy's mettle. "I mean it!" He broke skin in his panic, releasing a gasp and a moan of pain from Anya. A thin line of blood blossomed from under the blade, beading up and trailing down her neck.

Finny took a step back, showing he wouldn't try anything. He was furious with himself as he was forced to watch Anya be poked and prodded past him to the door.

_I have _super human strength, _and I can't even save her. _Finny gritted his teeth. Was he really going to let this person take his best friend in the world away from him? It seemed he didn't have a choice.

Anya was still trying to stall Eugene, in her own way. The fact that she couldn't see anything actually helped. She dragged her feet, she stumbled on purpose, and she listened for any noise that could tell her where Finny was. She had almost surrendered to Eugene when Finny had found them, but the sound of his voice had revitalized her desperation. _If only he would _say _something before we get to the door, we could figure something out._

As if he had read her thoughts, Finny spoke up. "We'll find you," he warned. "And you will wish you had never set foot in our home. I don't care what the others say; I'll follow you to the edges of the earth to bring her home."

There he was, right in front of her! His words were tough, but to Anya he sounded like he was about to cry. She felt anger flare up inside her, washing away even her fear of not being able to see. Eugene was not only hurting her, but her best friend, too. She couldn't let him take her away; if not for her sake, then for Finny's.

Taking a deep breath, she willingly let her feet fall out from under her. Eugene hadn't expected for her to collapse; as soon as she was on the floor, she launched herself away from him. Anya rolled frantically toward what she hoped was Finny. The instant that Anya no longer had a knife trained on her, Finny threw himself at Eugene. He knocked the knife out of his hand with as much effort as it took most people to pick up a spoon, and in seconds, the stable hand was unconscious and bleeding on the ground.

Finny didn't look back once as he hurried to Anya, who was struggling to sit up. He spoke softly to her, so she wouldn't freak out and punch him again. He gently removed her blindfold first, realizing that this must be very similar to the way she had been captured by Alois. Her wide violet eyes blinked, and then welled up with tears when she saw Finny's face.

"Mph, hmm hm hhhhhmmmmpphh!" she said. Finny grabbed Eugene's knife from the floor, slicing through the bindings on Anya's mouth and wrists easily.

"What was that?" he asked. Anya didn't answer, but flung her arms around him, knocking both of them to the floor. She hugged his neck and buried her face in his shirt. Finny held her close to his heart as she attempted to speak in between sobs.

"I-am-never-going-to-find-that-stupid-kit!" she hiccupped. Finny laughed, amazed. The things she thought about after trauma…

"We need to get you cleaned up," he said gently. "You've lost a lot of blood, Anya." The maid sniffed and allowed him to help her up. She sat on the bed while he dug into the wardrobe, finally pulling out the large box.

"You keep your first aid kit in your wardrobe," she stated. It wasn't a question.

"Well, yes," he said, confused. "Doesn't everyone?" He smiled at Anya's bewilderment and opened up the case.

"Wait," Anya said. She pointed to Eugene's still form. "What are we going to do about him?" Finny's face contorted with anger. Stomping over to Eugene, he took the scraps of rope from the floor and tied the older boy's hands.

"The young master will like a few words with him, I suppose," he admitted. "I, for one, would like to tear him limb from limb. Only with your permission, of course."

Anya smiled sadly. "You don't mean that, silly. I know you better than that. You're angry and upset, as am I, but we can't just murder someone in cold blood." Finny opened his mouth to protest, but shut it quickly under Anya's stern gaze.

"Why was he even here, anyway?" Finny backpedaled, returning to help Anya dress her wounds. "And what did he want with you?" He soaked a cloth with alcohol and cleansed the small cuts on Anya's neck. She grimaced, clawing at the sheets.

"He's a stable boy from my adoptive father's house," she gritted. "He's the same one who tried to stop us at the gala." She got the words out, but the alcohol really stung. Her breath was coming in gasps now; she had indeed lost a lot of blood. Adrenaline had kept her going so far, but now Anya was very dizzy.

"Why was he trying to take you away?" Finny whispered. He took the wrappings from the kit and formed a makeshift bandage around Anya's neck. It was a little sloppy, but it was the best he could do without risking hurting her even more.

"I'll fix my leg in a minute," Anya dodged. "Get up here and stretch out your leg. What happened to it?"

"Got shot," Finny said bluntly. "Why was he after you?" Anya looked forlornly at Eugene, and then treated Finny's injury. She rolled the leg of his trousers up to his knee and pulled forth a clean, sterile cloth. Finny hissed from the pain while Anya muttered apologies. After cleaning up the blood, she carefully disposed of both stained rags in a waste bin.

"The count wants me to come home," she finally sighed. "But Finny, I don't think I can face the others after all that's happened!"

"You don't have to," Finny assured her. "You don't have to go back, and you know that. This is your home now." Anya wrapped the bandages around Finny's leg gently; she really was a great nurse. But the look in her eyes as she stared at her handiwork was so sad.

"Finny, they _shot you._ They almost killed Ciel. I don't even know if everyone else is okay! What if he doesn't give up? What if he comes back? I never wanted any of you to get hurt because of me." Anya folded her hands in her lap, finished with her work. "Maybe I should leave… they wouldn't bother you anymore."

"Don't say that!" Finny said forcefully. He stood up, testing his leg. "If you left, I- we would all miss you so much. I can't imagine you not being here anymore, Anya. When I think ahead, all I can see is all of us, together. I would get myself shot a thousand times before I let you leave because you think you have to." He sat down next to her on the bed, clasping her hand in his own.

Anya, too tired to do much else, merely mumbled her assent and leaned her head against Finny's shoulder. She had done this once or twice when she had nodded off in the greenhouse or the library, but this was different, somehow. Finny withdrew his hand in order to put an arm around her shoulders. They sat like that for a long minute, Anya snuggling into the crook of Finny's neck, and Finny holding her close. Despite the excitement of the day, they both felt utterly at peace.

"We should probably find the others now," Finny whispered. When no answer came, he craned his neck to look down at the girl in his arms. He smiled, blush dusting his cheeks; Anya had fallen asleep. Gently, he placed a slow kiss on her forehead, directly on her hairline. She mumbled something in her sleep and cuddled more closely to him before sighing contently.

Unsure of what to do, Finny let her rest for a minute. It felt good to just sit with her and feel her relaxed in his arms. Curled against him, she looked so much happier, so carefree. Anya had a curious way of sleeping. Her breathing was soft, and she gravitated toward warmth, burrowing under his protective arm. To his surprise, Finny could see them like this in the future, and not only the close future.

Finny realized that he could clearly envision spending the rest of his days with this girl.

He smiled at the thought, and let his eyelids flutter shut for only a moment before he heard footsteps out in the hall. Sebastian appeared in the hole where the door had been, turning up his nose in disapproval at the mess.

"Finian, what on earth-?" Finny shushed him with a gesture, glancing pointedly from him to Anya. The butler took in the scene with little to no surprise; it took a lot more than a little scuffle like this to catch him off guard.

"I see that stable boy found his way in," Sebastian stated softly. He carelessly tossed the boy over his shoulder. "I'll see what I can get out of him, and let the young master decide what to do with him afterwards. Let Anya sleep for a few more minutes, then wake her up to clean her wound." The butler smirked at the gardener's shocked expression. "Yes, _you, _Finian. I promise she won't hold it against you."

As he exited the room with Eugene slung over his back like a bag of flour, Sebastian called back, "I believe that you're the only one she trusts to do it."

"… Stupid butler." Anya murmured. Then she fell back to dreaming.

* * *

><p>Ciel paced around the library, his thoughts racing. The skirmish hadn't even lasted for half an hour, but he knew that this was no ordinary attack. According to Bardroy's report from outside, the intruders hadn't even been professional gunmen; they were amateur at best.<p>

_Why would someone send in those hopeless men in here to be slaughtered?_

He stopped, dread gnawing at his stomach. What if they were only decoys and their true mission was something altogether different? Uneasy, Ciel was about to call for Sebastian, but the butler chose that moment to enter library with a familiar looking boy on his back. The butler plopped the boy unceremoniously in a wooden chair and bowed to his master.

"What happened?" Ciel asked briskly.

"From what I can tell," Sebastian complied. "This one was on a kidnapping mission. He attacked Anya and tried to take her, but Finian discovered them and confronted the boy." Sebastian frowned. "In the process, he blew right through a downstairs wall and ripped a door from its hinges. I will repair them after I finish the window in the study."

Ciel studied the unconscious boy in front of him. It took him only seconds to place him. "So this is Eugene? He seems to be popping up everywhere."

"He is undoubtedly acting under the count's orders, my lord."

"I understand that well enough. What I would like to know is why the count is so prepared to use force to bring Anya back. If all he wants is to bring his adopted daughter home, why would he risk _killing _her? It doesn't make any sense."

He poked Eugene's face with disdain. "Is he going to wake up any time soon?"

"I don't think so," Sebastian guessed. "Finian wasn't as careful as he normally is. He lost his temper back there."

Ciel couldn't help but smile lightly. "I'm sure he did. You've noticed it, too?" There had been an obvious attraction between the maid and the gardener almost since Anya's arrival, even if they had both been a little slow in realizing it. Ciel had even overheard Bard and Mey-rin giggling about it at dinner.

"I would have to be as blind as Mey-rin not to," the butler stated simply. "I'm surprised the girl hasn't figured it out before now. He follows her around like a pup."

"Those in love are often the last to recognize the fact. That's what Aunt Red always told me."

"I hate to change to a darker subject, but there is something that I need to say." Sebastian knelt before Ciel; hand on his heart and head bowed in shame. "I don't believe you've had a chance to think about it, what with all the excitement, but I have failed you as your butler. I allowed myself to be caught off guard, and was unable to protect you."

Ciel looked coldly at his butler. In truth, he _hadn't _thought about it, but it had been Anya who had knocked him away from the window. Sebastian had only been seconds behind her, but those seconds would have been enough to kill him. Anya had joined their home as a housekeeper, not a combatant, and she had still reacted quickly enough to shield him with her own life.

"Thanks to Anya, nothing disastrous happened. A civilian risked her life to save mine, when that shouldn't have been necessary. It is your job to be aware of everything that goes on around here, and yet you left it to an untrained human girl to protect me. You are aware of how serious this is?"

"Of course, my lord." Sebastian was filled with shame and frustration. Being outdone by a teenage girl was a real blow to his ego. Ciel turned his back on the kneeling butler.

"She saved my life," he said, almost to himself. "I'll bet you anything that she won't even think about it like that. She'll just be excited that she was able to be involved and that no one was seriously injured." He looked back at Sebastian, eye wide. "No one was seriously injured, were they?"

"No, my lord."

"Then what are you still doing there? Get the intruder to the cellar and call a meeting immediately. This offense won't be ignored."

Sebastian raised his head. "My lord, I expected-"

"For me to chastise you? There's no need. You're too proud to let anything like this happen again. Now do as I ordered."

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

><p>Anya and Finny entered the library together, both a little unsteady. Finny had let Anya sleep until Sebastian returned to call them upstairs, and then he had shaken her awake to attend to her leg. After much blushing and awkward silence, Anya was all fixed up. Although she was a little embarrassed to have dozed off like a kitten, she just felt that much closer to Finny now.<p>

The others were all standing around, nursing various bruises and scratches. Bard had an impressive lump on his forehead, and Mey-rin's hair looked like someone had tried to shoot it off. Sebastian, unsurprisingly, only had one small tear in his tailcoat. And of course, Ciel was as impeccably dressed as always. Tanaka sat in the corner, and chuckled over his tea when he saw that Anya was gripping Finny's arm.

"Oh ho ho?" he chuckled. Everyone turned their heads to the doorway and smiled.

"There they are," Bard cried. "The heroes of the hour! You're both getting extra dessert for a week!" He laughed at their panicked expressions. "Don't worry; I'm talking ice cream here."

"That's enough," Sebastian snapped. "We are here to debrief and plan a course of action. Everyone listen."

Ciel gestured for them to sit around a large table. Sebastian stood stoically to his right, and the rest of them sat, waiting.

"First off, we all need to know exactly what occurred today. Anya, please start from the gunshots."

"Sure thing, milord. Well, I brought the cake to the study and we discussed… a case. The intruders shot at us through the window, and then Sebastian arrived and ran off with the Earl. I cut myself on the broken glass, so after I found you all, I went to find the first aid kit in Finny and Bard's room. Eugene was in there." Anya paused, squeezing Finny's hand. "He pulled a knife on me and tried to take me. Finny found us and saved me, even though he was hurt." She smiled up at him, and he smiled tenderly back.

"Bardroy, what happened to the other intruders?"

"Easy pickings, your lordship. Sorry, but we ended up killing them all. It was over too quickly."

Ciel folded his hands under his chin. "That's fine. Eugene is passed out in the cellar. He seems to be closest to the count out of all the men; he was the only one who wasn't used as bait."

"Wait- you mean Finny _didn't _tear the kid limb from limb?" Bard looked astonished.

"She wouldn't let me," Finny grumbled. He was happy that he hadn't, now that it was all over, but the thought still appealed to him. Each time he remembered how he felt when Eugene had threatened Anya, he wanted to tear a door clean off its hinges. Again.

Ciel stood abruptly. "There is something that I need to address, and it can't wait." Everyone locked their eyes on the Earl, soaking up his every word. "We can't let this go unpunished. Sebastian will send the boy home to deliver a message to Count Rosenbloom: If he won't leave us alone, we will be forced to fight back. Depending on his response, we will either return to our lives as normal, or take up arms against his house. Personally, I would like this all to be over, but no one invades my house without penalty. Be ready at any time."

"Yes, sir!" they cheered simultaneously. One by one, the Phantomhive servants stood and saluted their lord.

"Very well. You should all get cleaned up and get some rest; there is still work to be done today." They all took that as a dismissal, and began to leave. Even Sebastian left to repair his coat.

"Anya, could you stay for a moment?" The girl turned to find Ciel still seated, waiting for her.

"Of course, sir," the maid said. She gave Finny's hand a pat and he exited the library with a smile. Anya sat across from the Earl with a wistful grin and a smattering of blush on her face. "Do you need something, Ciel?"

"Why didn't you tell them?" Ciel cut to the quick.

"Tell them? About my dream?" Anya was confused. Why would she have said anything about such a personal matter in a strategy meeting?

"That you saved my life."

Anya blinked. "Excuse me? When did I ever…"

"You failed to mention that you were the first to spot the gunmen. They had a clear shot at me through the window, but you pushed me out of the way, placing yourself in great risk."

"Milord, I simply-"

"Anya, I have never asked you to fight for me; you did more than enough by assisting me in the murder case. And yet you showed the actions of a true Phantomhive maid, staying loyal to me in the greatest way possible, even when it wasn't you duty." He stood and bowed at the waist, a remarkable thing for the Earl to do. "For that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart."

Anya knew her face must be bright red; her ears were burning. "Ciel, you don't have to- I mean, that wasn't anything. It's our j-job to keep you s-safe." She let her hair fall into her face, mortified for stammering. "I wasn't going to let anyone kill you on your birthday, was I?"

"Whether or not you see it the way that I do, I am still indebted to you. And believe me; it isn't good for me to owe anyone a life debt. So what do you want? I'm prepared to offer you anything within reason."

Anya stared, openmouthed. What was he saying? She had only done her job, and hadn't really been able to think when she had thrown him to the ground. Why was he doing this?

Ciel kept his eye trained steadily on her, as if trying to read her thoughts. What would she ask for?

"My lord, if there is anything that would put my mind at ease, it would be for you to promise not to hurt Eugene."

Well, that was the last request the Earl had expected. She could have asked for gold, jewels, land, transportation; anything. But it seemed she liked things just the way they were. After watching her and Finny, Ciel wasn't overly surprised by that. _If this is the life she wants, I won't say no. But…_

"I would like to ask why, if you don't mind." He tried to keep his voice neutral, but he couldn't contain his outrage. This _boy_ had dared to invade their home, and had even tried to kidnap Anya. "Why do you care what happens to him?"

"We used to be friends," Anya said sadly. "After the Incident, he was the only one who still wanted to be my friend. Unfortunately, he was convinced that some evil spirit had somehow taken control of me, and I was still there somewhere. He thought he was doing a good thing by kidnapping me."

"Then I won't have any hand in harming him," Ciel promised. "I swear so on my parents' graves." Anya inhaled sharply. That was a serious oath for him to make. "I can't, however, make any promises for our gardener. You'll have to speak with him about that."

"He wouldn't actually kill him," Anya said defensively. "He was just angry, that's all. I asked him to lighten up and he did. End of story."

Ciel placed his head in his hands. "Are you really _that _blind? You can spot a horde of assassins in a tree through the snow, but you haven't seen _this?_"

Anya was truly bewildered now. "What on earth are you talking about? What did I miss?"

"Forget it. I give up." Ciel threw his hands up in defeat. "It's not really my business, anyway. In any case, we'll be sending Eugene back tomorrow. Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do for you?"

"A life for a life debt is pretty much even," Anya corrected. "Even if the other's life doesn't matter that much to you. But I do have one question; earlier, the others gave me the impression that we don't really celebrate Christmas here…"

* * *

><p><em><strong>~A little less than two weeks later~<strong>_

* * *

><p>Anya jumped out of bed only minutes after the sun began ascending into the sky. She dressed quietly, trying not to wake her snoozing roommate. Just to make things different, she pulled on a green shirt with a red jacket and trousers. It was the day before Christmas, and she was going to get this house in the spirit of the holiday.<p>

She had a _lot _of work to do.

Anya climbed the stairs to the main dining hall, and gasped. There was a magnificent tree in the center of the room, a gleaming candle hanging from every other branch. The lofty ceiling was covered with wreathes and garlands of poinsettias. And at the top of a tall, wobbly ladder stood Sebastian Michaelis, who was reaching to set a star at the very top of the tree.

"Sebastian," she called, giddy with delight. "Did you do all of this?" She twirled in circles, nearly laughing in her ecstasy. "It's so beautiful!"

Sebastian shot her his charming smile from his precarious perch. "I would like to take the credit, but I was merely assisting Finian. The young master gave him the task of gathering all of the flowers, after all." He descended the ladder, star still in hand. Anya eagerly held out her hands for it, and the butler willingly capitulated the glimmering bauble. It was made of delicate silver, so unlike the heavy brass ornament that Anya remembered from her childhood.

"How did you do this?" she gushed, feeling just about five years old. "You must have worked through the night!"

Sebastian shrugged. "I don't need much sleep. And trust me; Finian is already making up for lost time." He pointed to a spot against the wall, where Finny lay huddled under a red and white quilt. Anya giggled as she approached him silently. She couldn't help it; he was just too adorable sometimes. She knelt down beside him to whisper in his ear.

"Finny," she crooned. "It's time to wake uuu-uuup." He groaned and flipped over on his side.

"Five more minutes, Anya. Pleeeease~?"

"Okay… I'll just go tell Sebastian that we can eat breakfast without you."

"I'm up!" he exclaimed, suddenly wide awake. He blushed when he saw Anya and Sebastian both laughing at him. "Come on! I stayed up all night. This was just a- a short rest." Anya laughed again and hauled her friend to his feet.

"It looks amazing, Finny!" She hugged him fiercely, nearly sending both of them to the floor again. "I can't believe we're having Christmas together."

Finny returned her embrace gently. "Well, the young master said that we were having a Christmas Eve party, and so-"

"We're having a party?" Anya cried out. Finny had never seen her eyes shine so brightly. They were filled with hope and joy and a childish gleam that was extremely contagious. "This is so _perfect!_"

"What are you doing, making so much noise this early?"

The three staff members turned to see Ciel enter the hall, wearing a simple working outfit. Anya had to keep herself from staring; she had never seen the Earl look so _young_! Without the frills and billowing capes, Ciel looked just like an ordinary teenage boy.

"I apologize, my lord," Sebastian bowed. "But it seems that Miss Criel has suddenly been replaced by a toddler in disguise. She can't seem to calm down."

"Ciel!" Anya crowed. She bounded up to him and curtsied enthusiastically, which was strange because she wasn't even wearing a skirt. "Are we really having a Christmas party?"

Ciel smiled softly. "Funny; your reaction is eerily similar to Elizabeth's. She and a few of my acquaintances will be joining us this evening, so I asked Finian to get ready last night. Do you like it?"

"I love it," Anya beamed. "And I'm so happy that I'm finally going to meet Lady Elizabeth. She sounds like a really sweet girl." She watched Ciel's expression soften. _There he goes again! He absolutely adores his fiancé._

"That's excellent," he said. "Because after tonight, she'll either be calling you her little sister or trying to dress you like a doll. Maybe both." He gazed around a bit before addressing Finny and Sebastian. "You two did wonderfully. There is only one thing missing now."

Anya followed his gaze to the tip of the tree, still in need of a topper. She held out the silver star for the Earl's approval. "It's so beautiful, isn't it?" Her eyes lit up at a sudden thought. She looked at her friends with big, pleading eyes.

"Can I put the star on the tree? Can I, please? The count would never let me climb the ladder to do it when I was younger, and by the time I was tall enough, he had stopped celebrating Christmas, too."

"There is a problem with that," Sebastian interjected. "The ladder simply isn't tall enough for any of us to reach high enough to affix the star." Of course, he could have simply leaped up to the top himself, but he had to keep up his human appearance in front of Anya and Finny.

"We can do it," Anya insisted. "Can't we, Finny?" She winked at her partner, and he beamed at her as he grasped her meaning.

"Of course!"

It wasn't awkward at all now. Both of their wounds had healed quickly, (Anya's a bit more quickly than would be considered normal) and they were in top shape. Anya turned her back to Finny, who placed his hands warmly on her waist.

"On my count," the gardener whispered. His breath tickled her ear. "On three."

At the count of three, Anya rocketed to the top of the tall evergreen, peaking at just the right moment. The star in her hands seemed to give off its own glow as she quickly put it in its proper place. The whole time, her body was buzzing with that wonderfully familiar sensation of flying. She was almost disappointed when she fell from the air and landed safely in Finny's ready arms. Almost.

"Hello, there," she giggled. She knew her face was flushed with excitement and that Ciel and Sebastian were watching their every move, but she didn't care.

Finny grinned as he set her on her feet again. "Hello, yourself. Did milady have a nice trip?"

"Why, of course. Thank you very much for asking." Anya played along with their mock formality and tried to curtsy again. Finny bowed and took her hand, and the two of them attempted a formal dance. Failing miserably and red in the face, they both dropped to the floor, laughing their heads off.

"Young master," Sebastian whispered just loudly enough for Ciel to hear. "Do the holidays always make young people lose their heads?"

Ciel smiled ruefully. "No, Sebastian. I think what we're seeing here is the two of them finally figuring out what all of us already know." He raised his voice. "Okay, that's enough frivolity for now. Lord knows there'll be enough of it tonight. Finny, go get some rest. You've been up all night. Anya, I need you to help Bard with the menu for dinner. We aren't on holiday just yet; if we want to host this event properly, we need to get moving. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir!" Anya and Finny left the room to go about their assigned tasks. While Anya skillfully cracked some eggs into a bowl for breakfast, Finny drew the sheets up to his chin. He dozed off almost instantly, but not before promising himself that he would do it that evening. He was going to tell Anya Criel _exactly _what he thought of her.

* * *

><p>"So you fail the task I gave you, let your entire party die, and come crawling back here with this?" Count Rosenbloom raged, ripping the letter into pieces. Eugene stood with his head bowed, not saying anything. He had expected this. He might not have returned to the count at all, if not for that frightening butler. The butler had promised that he would know if Eugene didn't deliver the Earl's message, and the young boy had believed every word of it.<p>

He was positive that the butler wasn't human.

"Begging you pardon, sir." Eugene raised his head slightly. "But if that demon wants to stay where it is, why should it concern you? Why go through all this trouble if it just won't cooperate?"

"She is not possessed," the count roared. "When will you get that through your thick, uneducated skull, boy? Would a demon have let you capture it? Would a _demon _leave you alive? They _do not exist!_"

Eugene shrank away from his master's rage. "So I take it that you will ignore the Earl's warning?"

"Of course! That girl is nowhere near being old enough to decide this sort of thing for herself. Why, if her parents-!" The count suddenly fell silent, as if he were afraid to say too much. "Anyway, if you don't have anything useful to say, go rot in a stable somewhere."

The stable hand cleared his throat. "Sir, I overheard the Earl say something strange to his butler when they sent me off. He said something about a Yard record stating that Ian Criel had _not_ been killed by a runaway horse. That was the story that I heard, and I respectfully request to know if it is true or not."

Count Rosenbloom groaned, suddenly looking decades older. His tired, steely eyes locked themselves on Eugene's, and the boy saw only sadness and fatigue in them.

"I suppose you've gotten yourself in this deep, haven't you? Aside from Amelia, no one except your mother-bless her soul-knew the real cause of Ian's death. The horse story is just what I told Anya when she was younger." He looked away before finally focusing on Eugene again. He had never imagined he would ever speak his next words.

"A horse didn't kill Ian. I did."

* * *

><p><strong>I really don't think I can stay up much later than this. It took me like ten minutes to write the note at the top just because I kept messing up T.T<strong>

**Moony: Cookies to anyone who knows where half of the names in this chapter and the previous one came from!**

**Not now, Moons. I'm... so.. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.**

**Moony: Well, goodnight, sleep tight, and R&R everyone.**


	7. Chapter 7

Hai!** So happy to finally get this done; I've been trying to find time to write all week!**

**Moony: Cut the crap, you were reading Hetalia fanfics.**

**Was not! . . . AMERICA! Anyway, today is January 6, so tomorrow is my birthday! So be generous, dear readers! Plot twists galore lie ahead, so read on!**

**Moony: *checks* Nope. Maya _still _doesn't own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler.**

* * *

><p>They were ready, Anya was sure of it. The sun had just begun to sink below the horizon, and the beautiful light turned the hall into a kaleidoscope of fiery festivity. The crimson poinsettias seemed to glow in the orange light, and the candlelight flickered magnificently. The silver and china were placed and polished, the food was cooked to perfection, and the Phantomhive household was fully prepared to welcome guests.<p>

They were not prepared to welcome Lady Elizabeth Midford. Nothing could have prepared them for that.

"Ciiiiieeeeeel!" she screamed, throwing herself at her cousin. "Why haven't you visited in so loooong?" Ciel managed to pull his fiancé off of him before straightening his shirt.

"You had the flu, remember? And I've been very busy, Elizabeth. Her Majesty has had several cases that have needed my-"

"It's _Lizzie_," she pouted. "Elizabeth isn't cute at all! Call me Lizzie!"

"… Lizzie, I'm sorry I haven't visited more often, but things really have been quite busy here." Ciel took her hands, trying to be serious with her. "Part of the reason we're having this party is to take a step back and catch up with each other. Is that okay?"

Anya watched the scene unfold with the other servants by her side. She couldn't help but grin at the change in Ciel's attitude. He handled Lizzie so well, like she was a young child. He knew exactly what to say to make her happy.

"Okay3!" Lizzie smiled. "Happy Christmas Eve, Ciel!"

Ciel smiled and gave her a gentle hug. "You too, Lizzie."

"Now," he said, directing Lizzie toward the stairs. "Sebastian will take your things to your room, so you should go and get ready for the party."

"Okay," she nodded. "But what should I wear?"

Ciel sighed, having anticipated the question. "Why don't you follow Anya to the wardrobe room and let her help you pick out a dress?"

Lizzie's face turned into a big question mark. "Who's Anya?"

Ciel found his servants waiting by the stairs and nodded to Anya. The maid stepped up to them and bowed. She was going to avoid wearing a dress for as long as possible. If no one said anything to her to make her change clothes, that would be even better.

"It's an honor to meet you, Lady Midford. I'm Anya, and I just started work here a few months ago." She gave Lizzie a friendly smile. _She really is adorable, _Anya thought. _It's no wonder Ciel looks so smitten with her!_

Lizzie blinked, and then squealed with delight. Without another word, she linked arms with Anya and dragged her upstairs to the Dresses Room. As they left, the rest of the household heard only the words, "So Anya, how do you feel about the color pink?"

Bard bowed his head, praying for the maid's safety.

"Excuse me, young master," Mey-rin piped up. "Maybe I should follow them, just to make sure that Anya's alright."

"That's actually a very good idea," Ciel admitted. "I did warn her, though. Be quick, and try not to get caught as well." Mey-rin curtsied, and hurried to her friend's rescue. Ciel turned to his remaining staff; Bard, Finny, and Tanaka.

"The other guests won't start arriving for another thirty minutes or so," he told them. "Mr. Tanaka, please watch the door for early arrivals. Bardroy, Finian, please go change into something more suitable."

"Hold on, your Lordship," Bard protested. "Why are we dressing up? No one said _anything _about formal wear."

"I know for a fact that Anya and Mey-rin won't escape the wrath of my fiancé," Ciel countered. "They will undoubtedly be dressed formally by the time the party begins, and you two will stick out if you're the only ones not dressed out." The explanation was plausible enough, and very true. But Ciel had the twinkle of mischief in his eye. He was planning something, and the young men before him had an unsettling feeling that it involved them.

"A-Alright, sir." Finny backed up slowly. "We'll just… go change, now." He turned to walk away, and missed the wink that Ciel tipped to Bard. The chef blinked, and then realized what it was that the young master was getting at. He gave a thumbs up to Ciel before chasing after Finny. The older man put a brotherly arm around Finny's shoulders.

"So Finny, anything special planned this fine evening?" he asked innocently.

Finny looked up at his friend, his face slowly turning red. "Well, actually…" He looked at his shoes, unable to get the words out.

"Say no more, my young lad," Bard intoned sagely. "Just let Uncle Bardo give ya a few bits of advice…"

* * *

><p>"Oh, isn't it <em>so adorable<em>?" Lizzie squealed, twirling in front of the mirrors. The bright pink dress was as poufy and frilly as any dress that Anya could imagine. She couldn't even imagine being forced into it, let alone wearing it _willingly._ But the monstrosity actually suited Lady Elizabeth; the rosy color brought out highlights in her strawberry blonde hair.

"It looks lovely, my lady," Anya mused. She circled Elizabeth, considering the outfit. "It needs _something,_ though. Oh, what about this?" She pulled a purple sash from the wrack, and tied it around Lizzie's waist with a cute bow at the back.

"Wow," Mey-rin and Lizzie exclaimed together. Somehow, the splash of color provided a contrast for Elizabeth's jade green eyes without taking away from the cuteness of the outfit or the emphasis on her curly golden hair.

"That settles it," Lizzie decided. "This is the one." She suddenly tackled Anya, showering her with hugs and praise. "Are you sure you want to work here? You could come to my house and we could play dress up all the time!"

Anya somehow managed not to grimace. _That would fun, _she thought dryly. _Nothing but clothes, clothes, and more clothes._ And there was no way she would leave… all of her friends.

"I'm honored, my lady, but my place is here."

"Well, okay…" Lizzie looked closely at Anya's face. Her eyes lit up at what she saw there. "There's a boy, isn't there?"

"W-What?" Anya gasped. "What would make you-?"

"I'm very familiar with these things," Lizzie boasted. "I can tell just by the look in your eyes; you were thinking about a _boy _just now! Come on; who is it?" She plunked the helpless maid into one of the chairs spread around the room and pulled up another chair to sit beside her. She waited, eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Anya blushed heavily, fingering at her hair bashfully. "Well, you see… I- I think I like this boy very much, and I think he likes me, too. "

"Yes, yes," Lizzie huffed, motioning Anya to continue. "But who is it?" Anya sat rigidly, silent.

"Fine," Lizzie smirked. "Mey-rin can tell me!" she looked to the flustered maid.

"Well, er, you see, Lady Elizabeth-"

"Alright," Anya sighed. "Don't torture her, milady. It's… well, it's Finny. I care for him very deeply, but we're best friends. I just don't know how to tell him." And she really had no idea. How do you tell someone who has made you laugh, helped you recover from traumatic experiences, saved your _life, _and been your best friend that you are in love with them?

"But that's perfect!"

"You've lost me, my lady."

"Isn't it obvious?" Lizzie gushed. "Anya, it is _Christmas Eve_! Tonight is the most romantic night of the whole year, and you're going to waste it? I won't allow it!" She towed Anya to her feet, pushing her toward the dress racks.

"Mey-rin, I need you to help, and then we're getting you dressed, too. We can't let Mr. Bardroy wait forever, can we?" Lizzie winked, and Mey-rin nodded coyly, crimson faced. "Then let's get to it! The girls are taking over tonight!"

* * *

><p>Finny squirmed; he wasn't comfortable without his hat covering the back of his neck. Bard had assured him that between the collar of his tuxedo jacket and his combed back hair, no one would see the brand. Even so, he felt exposed. Yet at the same time, he was also getting very claustrophobic.<p>

"Bard," he whined. "We look like _Sebastian!_" They were both outfitted in smart black suits; without tailcoats, of course. Their shoes were polished so much that the light shining from them hurt Finny's eyes. In their shabby little bedroom, he felt gawky, awkward, and grossly overdressed.

"No we don't," Bard grumbled defensively. He didn't like this much more than Finny did.

"In what worldly way are we not dressed like butlers?"

"We… are wearing _bow ties. _Not ties. And no tailcoats." The cook cleared his throat. "Now listen; I know what you've been thinking of doing tonight, and-"

"What do you mean?" Finny cut in defensively. "I'm not planning anything!"

"And I think that it's _about time._" Bard finished.

"W-What?"

"You heard me right. We've been waiting for you to say something to her for days. I think even the young master is getting impatient." Bard sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "We all know you care about her, Finn. You just need to man up and _tell her_. Think about it; what if that Count blows us off? He'll attack again, and we might not be able to keep Anya safe again if this turns into all-out war. You need to act now, little buddy."

Finny groaned and put his face in his hands. "And that is a _wonderful _pep talk. The only incentive I need is that she might be kidnapped before I tell her how I feel. Thanks, Bard."

"No problem. Now; how are you going to do it?"

"I have no idea," Finny sighed. "I keep trying to figure out what to say, but it all sounds so dumb."

Bard thought for a while. "You know what girls seem to like?" he asked after a moment. "In all my dealings with this kind of stuff, girls always fall head over heels for chivalry. Opening doors, pulling out chairs, escorting them down stairs; you know, the stuff that nobles do."

Finny was transfixed, eyes wide. "Really?" he asked. "Girl's like it when you do that stuff?"

"I dunno," Bard scratched his head. "Not _all _girls, I suppose. But Anya seems more like a romantic type, what with all of her reading and poetry. I would take that approach."

"What happens if she doesn't go for chivalry?"

"Huh? Oh, that's easy! If you try to be overly polite to a girl who doesn't want you to, she will most likely pound you to a pulp. In girl language, that basically means she'll kick you in the shin and storm off. But I doubt Anya would do that; not to you, anyway." The cook chuckled at the depressing expression on his friend's face.

"Well, the guests are arriving. We should go help greet everyone." They left their room and made their way to the front door. There weren't going to be many guests that evening, but anyone who showed up would be a business associate to the Earl, so Bard and Finny had to be at their best and reflect well upon their master.

The two of them passed the staircase, but paused when a high pitched voice called their names. They swiveled to see Lady Elizabeth waving ecstatically from the top of the stairs. They cautiously waved back, confused. Lizzie shook her head irritably.

"Wait," she called down. She took a few steps toward the wall that hid the corridor from view. She seemed to be arguing with someone who was just beyond their field of vision. Lizzie finally tried to just drag whoever it was toward her, but they wouldn't budge.

"Finian," she huffed. "Could you please get up here and help me? It seems that _someone _is being stubborn." Finny and Bard shrugged at each other and Bard went to greet the guests. Finny ascended the stairs. He was only a few steps from the top before he heard an exasperated voice finally relent, and a familiar figure rounded the corner.

Finny gripped the railing tightly to keep himself upright, causing it to splinter slightly; not that he noticed. He had eyes only for the girl who was shuffling shyly in his direction.

"Hullo, Finny," Anya breathed. "Bit excessive, don't you think?" She turned slightly, showing off her deep violet ball gown. Her hair was teased up in elegant ringlets on top of her head, and a silver choker glittered at her throat. Long, white gloves stretched past her elbows, leaving her shoulders bare. The full skirt of the dress cut off just above her ankles, revealing delicate white flats.

Finny finally realized that he had been asked a question. "N-No!" he blurted. "Not at all. You l-look beautiful." He dropped his eyes from hers, blushing madly.

"Thank you," Anya answered, her face matching his exactly. "Y-You're very handsome, yourself." They stood like that for what felt like hours, with Finny staring up at Anya from his place on the stairs. Neither of them knew what to do next.

Fortunately, Lizzie did. She said a hasty goodbye and passed Anya to go find Mey-rin, 'accidentally' bumping into the maid on her way. Anya lost her balance, but Finny was already there, catching her by the waist before she toppled.

"Careful," he whispered.

"O-Okay," Anya blushed. "Er, Finny?"

"Yes?"

"You can let go now." Finny realized that his arms were still draped loosely around her. He slowly extracted them and grinned apologetically. Anya forgot her embarrassment and slowly smiled back. Finny remembered Bard's advice and gallantly offered Anya his arm.

"Shall we?"

Anya blinked. This was certainly out of character for her friend. They had jokingly played at being formal with one another countless times, but now Finny looked gravely serious. _And very, very, handsome, _Anya noted with a small smile. Yes, it was different, but it was also sweet. Anya slipped her gloved arm through Finny's and beamed up at him.

"I believe we shall."

* * *

><p>"Ow! Lady Elizabeth can I please-ow!- have my glasses back now?" Mey-rin was following Lizzie through the garden, bumping into bushes and tree roots at every other step. Her face felt so exposed without the familiar frames resting on the bridge of her nose, and she couldn't see anything that was less than twenty yards ahead of her.<p>

"No," Lizzie cried, exasperated. "These clunky things completely hide your eyes. Your eyes are too pretty to cover up!"

"Then can you at least tell me where we're going? I can't see anything at all."

"You'll see," Lizzie sang. Mey-rin heard, rather than saw, the smile on her face. _This isn't anything like my normal outfit, _the maid despaired. _How am I going to work like this?_ But she couldn't refuse the young master's fiancé, so she would have to make it work.

Although the details were a bit fuzzy, Mey-rin could tell that she was dressed in a red gown similar to Anya's. She had refused the long gloves for fear of another of her senses being rendered useless, but Lizzie had insisted on the gold necklace. Luckily, Lizzie hadn't forced either maid to wear high heels; that would have been a catastrophe.

And Mey-rin didn't even want to know what had been done to her poor hair. It hung down her back a lot farther than Lizzie had expected, just past her shoulders. The matchmaking noblewoman had curled and teased it so it fell in graceful waves. It bounced against the back of her neck as she walked; an alien sensation for a girl who tied her hair up every day of her life.

"Here we are," Lizzie announced. Mey-rin squinted hard, and could just barely make out the front door of the manor looming above them.

"My lady, why did we go outside just to get to the front door?" she inquired.

"Oh, Mey-rin," Lizzie sighed. "It's not the door; it's the man who opens it! Now get in there!" Lizzie knocked lightly on the door before running off to the back gate, where she would reenter the house.

"Wait," Mey-rin called. "What about my glasses?" She didn't hear Elizabeth's faint reply, because someone chose to open the door at that very moment.

"Welcome to the home of his lordship, the Earl of Phantomhive," Bard began. "Please come this- Wha? _'Rin? _Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me," the maid laughed nervously. _Why did Lady Elizabeth have to be so adept at knowing when a girl has her eyes on someone?_ Mey-rin liked Bard very much, but had always felt that he would only ever view her as a coworker and a friend. "The young mistress kidnapped me and Anya for the opportunity to play dress up, and she took my glasses. I can't see a thing."

Bard was glad for that, because it meant that she probably couldn't see his wide eyes studying hers. He had seen her without her glasses before, but only in the heat of battle. Then, he would see her eyes flash red in the sparks from the gunpowder. Now, as he watched Mey-rin cautiously make her way towards him, her eyes were a sparkling hazel.

"B-Bard," she asked. "Do you think you could help me? I'm not going to be able to do anything tonight if I can't see where I'm going."

"Of course," Bard said smoothly, gently linking arms with the maid. She stiffened, but relaxed again slightly as he escorted her inside. "We'll go get your spares from your room, okay?"

Mey-rin didn't answer immediately. Despite Bard's guidance, she was still scared of running into things. And people. And doors. It showed in her tentative footsteps.

"Put a little faith in me, would you?" Bard scoffed. "Or don't you trust me?"

"No!" Mey-rin said, a little too loudly. "I mean, of course I trust you, Bard."

"Then just relax and walk forward. I swear I won't let you run into a door." Mey-rin did as instructed, and they started making progress much more quickly. Before she knew it, the maid was standing in her own room while Bard fetched her spare glasses from on top of the dresser.

"Let me," he offered. He slid the spectacles onto Mey-rin's nose. "Now isn't that better?" He grinned as his friend stared up at him, blushing at their close proximity.

"Thanks," Mey-rin whispered. "We should get back to the hall, shouldn't we?"

"If you say so, 'Rin." Bard offered her his arm again. The maid stared, confused. He did realize that she could see now, right? He didn't need to guide her. In fact, she could finally discern the peculiar way that he was looking at her. There was a strange light in his eyes that she couldn't place.

As she took Bard's arm once again, Mey-rin remembered Elizabeth's earlier words, and wondered if maybe it wasn't only young ladies' emotions that Lizzie had an affinity for.

* * *

><p>"Attention, please," Ciel called lightly. "Would everyone give me your attention for a moment?" The Earl waited until the gathered guests had quieted down before speaking. "Tonight we come together to celebrate a joyous holiday. Whether you are family," he smiled at Lizzie. "Friends, or business partners." He nodded to the small sect of the Underworld heads gathered in a small cluster.<p>

"We are all equal here tonight. To my staff, I implore you to enjoy yourselves this evening as well. Goodness knows you've put up with me long enough to deserve a break." Ciel's eye scanned the small crowd to find the staff standing at the back of the crowd, shock plastered on their faces. He smiled when he saw them paired up; Finny was escorting Anya and Bard escorting Mey-rin. He raised a glass of sparkling cider. "A toast; to everyone here a Merry Christmas."

"A Merry Christmas," they echoed, and knocked back their own glasses. The small crowd dispersed, separating into two main factions. The high society members sat on the sofas and chairs around the tree to exchange gossip, and Ciel's shady business associates slowly withdrew to the drawing room to chat and catch up.

Anya and Finny exchanged looks with Bard and Mey-rin. "Did you know anything about this?" Anya asked.

"Nothing," Finny shook his head. "This caught me by surprise, too. What are we supposed to do if we aren't serving?"

"You join the party, of course!"

They all whirled around to find Ciel and Lizzie grinning at them. Lizzie was glancing meaningfully at each couple, taking in the linked arms and flushed cheeks with a single glance.

"I hope it wasn't too much of a shock," Ciel smirked. "I had planned this as a surprise for all of you, so please have fun. You'll all be back at work first thing on the twenty sixth."

"Ciel," Lizzie whined. "Come dance with me!"

Ciel smiled down at his dear cousin, realizing for the first time that he was finally taller than her. "Whatever you say, Lizzie." Laughing and stumbling, Lizzie dragged Ciel away to dance, leaving the Phantomhive servants in a stupor.

"…Anyone else hungry?" Bard finally broke the silence. He nudged Mey-rin slightly.

"What?" she frowned, and then realized the implication. "Oh, I am," she said quickly. "Let's go get some food. I'm _so _hungry!" They hurried off to the long buffet table, giggling and glancing over their shoulders at their friends.

"Smooth move, Mey-rin," Bard laughed.

"Oh, stuff it," the maid slapped at his arm. "You were being too obvious. She's going to know what we're up to!"

Bard looked back one more time. Finny was gesturing for Anya to follow him outside into the garden, which was surprisingly warm for Christmas Eve.

He turned back to Mey-rin, grinning ear to ear. "I don't think we have to worry about that. Let's just give them some privacy; God knows I'm gonna give the kid enough grief tomorrow!"

* * *

><p>"What do you mean, <em>you <em>killed Anya's father?" Eugene screamed.

"Shush! Boy, do you want to wake the whole house? Shut your trap!" The count snapped. All traces of weariness had vanished from his slate grey eyes, leaving only contempt and malice.

"Why would you do something like that?" Eugene asked, more softly this time. "What did Ian Criel ever do to you?"

"He married my daughter," Count Rosenbloom scowled. "He was a bad influence; I ordered Amelia not to see him again, but he had her wrapped around his finger. They got married without my consent, and tried to hide it from me!"

"Your _daughter?_" the stable boy repeated, puzzled. "But that means that Anya's mum-"

"Was a noble; I know. If anyone knew that my only daughter had reproduced with that _scum_, our family would be disgraced. I had already found a suitable husband for her; that Viscount, Druitt or something. But then when I found out that she was pregnant… I couldn't take it. The lad dared to call me out, so I shot him. I thought that Amy would forget about him soon enough, but she threw her life away over him. I had to take Anya in afterwards."

"And you never told her?"

"How could I?" the count cried. "How would _you _tell your five year old granddaughter that you murdered her father? Aside from Collette, I hired completely new staff as soon as possible, and invented a tale about a maid whose husband was tragically killed by a runaway horse. Everyone thinks I took Anya in out of sympathy for them, but she's my own blood."

"Why did you keep my mother on as your staff, then?" Eugene demanded, quite forgetting his place. "That makes no sense!"

"Your mother was the one who helped Amelia give birth," the count huffed. "And, of course, she had you. You were barely a tot when all this happened. It chafed my conscience to take in Anya and boot a single mother out in the streets."

"How kind of you," Eugene murmured.

"Watch it, boy," the count snapped. "Now go tell Casper to get a guest room ready. We have a visitor." He gestured over his shoulder for a young man to enter the office. He was pale, with light hair and blue eyes. Eugene bowed, noticing with a suppressed grin the giant bruise on the young noble's nose.

"Since you failed so miserably," Count Rosenbloom continued. "Earl Trancy has agreed to assist me in finding a way to bring my granddaughter home. He says he has some business with the Phantomhive family as well."

Alois grinned mysteriously. "Yes, I certainly do."

* * *

><p>"It's really beautiful out here tonight," Anya commented. "It's so clear; you can see all of the stars." Finny glanced at her as they wandered through the garden that had become theirs. Over the weeks, Finny had gained more and more self-control, resulting in a wonderful landscape that the two of them had raised together.<p>

"Aye," he agreed. "Beautiful." But he wasn't looking at the bare deciduous trees and the snow covered conifers. His eyes were latched onto Anya, and he only tore them away when she caught him staring. He looked instead at the sky, searching for a source of conversation. "So, do you know any of the constellations, Anya?" _Stupid stupid stupid stupid!_

Anya's eyes lit up with excitement. "Only a few," she admitted. She took one of her hands away from Finny's arm to point up at the sky. "There's Orion the Hunter; you can tell by those three shimmery stars on his belt. Orion is my favorite because I can almost always find him on a clear winter evening." She stopped walking, jerking Finny to a stop as well. She pivoted on one foot before pointing again.

"And that's Cygnus, the swan constellation. I can almost never find it, so I'm glad it's out tonight." She smiled up at Finny. "Do you know any?"

"Not really," he said, abashed. _Why did I bring it up if I had no idea what I was talking about? Stupid stupid stu-_

"I just remembered something, though," he said, relieved. "I think that Lao once told the young master a story about that swan. It was some sort of Chinese legend."

"That sounds wonderful," Anya said, intrigued. "Do you remember it?"

"Why don't we sit down?" Finny offered. "I bet those shoes are pinching your feet raw." Anya nodded gratefully and followed Finny to a small wooden bench under sad looking willow. They made themselves comfortable as the gardener tried to recall the story.

"The details are a little fuzzy, but I know it was a love story," Finny began. "You know the phrase 'star-crossed lovers'? I think this story is where it came from. There were two lovers up in heaven, and they were very happy together. But someone wanted them apart, so they banished one of them to a place far away from the other." Finny pointed to Cygnus. "Those two far apart stars are the lovers."

Anya craned her head back to get a better view, her cheek brushing her friend's shoulder. Finny hesitantly brought his arm back down, letting it rest behind Anya on the back of the bench. She unconsciously leaned into him, causing his arm fall across her shoulders.

"That was an awfully mean thing to do," she noted. "Why would someone try to keep them apart if they were in love?"

"I guess some people are just cruel," Finny said. He wasn't thinking about the story much at the moment. He couldn't help remembering how it felt when Eugene had tried to take Anya away from him. Finny wondered if that was how the lover in the tale had felt. He held Anya just a little more tightly.

"The two of them became very sad," Finny continued. "Because they missed each other so much. So on the evening of the new moon, when no one would see them, they called on all of the magpies in the world to make a bridge for them to cross and see each other. The lovers were only together for the length of the night. So once a month, whenever the new moon is in the sky, all of the magpies fly up to the lovers and help them to be together again."

"That's such a lovely story," Anya yawned. "And you tell it very well, Finny. You were about to send me off to dreamland!" She reluctantly lifted her head from Finny's shoulder, and shivered. "Can we go in now? It's getting a bit cold."

"I'd like to show you something first, if you don't mind."

"Okay," Anya nodded. "I can make it, even if this gown is going to make catch pneumonia soon."

"Here," Finny offered. He stood and shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket, draping it loosely around Anya's shoulders. "Does that help?"

"Yes, thank you," the maid said. _It also helps that my face is probably burning enough to keep my whole body warm, _she added silently. Instead of taking her arm again, Finny reached for Anya's hand, and she readily accepted. As Finny led her deeper into the garden, she felt a surprising sense of relief. Finny had been behaving curiously all night, but this was familiar; just the two of them walking hand in hand.

"So what do you want to show me all the way out here?" she asked, excited despite of herself. She was sure that she had seen everything there was to see in their botanical paradise; what could Finny possibly have in mind?

The gardener smiled deviously at her over his shoulder. "You'll see," he promised. "We're almost there!" They had arrived at the entrance to the hedge maze where the two of them had first met. The tall greenery was covered with holly berries for the winter, and dusted with powdery snow. As if of its own will, Anya's free hand rose to brush the edges of the hedge, sending freezing water droplets flying into the night like silver shooting stars.

"Winter makes everything look like a dream," Anya commented. "Or a painting. The snow makes everything seem so magical and unreal." Finny suddenly stopped before turning the next corner, causing Anya to crash into his back. He didn't seem to notice the collision, but Anya supposed that inhuman strength made you rock solid against that kind of jolt.

"I need to you to close your eyes," Finny said, turning to face her. She made a face at him. "I know you don't like not seeing where you're going, but you trust me, right?" His expression turned puppy like, and Anya couldn't refuse. She nodded and gently closed her eyes. She felt a cool breeze pass by her face as Finny waved his hand in front of her eyes.

"I'm not going to peek," she teased. "Just take me where I need to be." She reached out her arms as proof of her blindness. A pair of cool hands circled her wrists, and Finny slowly guided her forward. Anya listened as the snow crunched softly under her shoes, stumbling slightly when her toes found a small stone or twig.

_This isn't so bad, _she realized. _I've spent all this time scared of what I couldn't see. It's fine if I have someone to guide me._

"I'm going to let go of you, but don't open your eyes yet." Finny's voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He retracted his hands and instantly disappeared from Anya's internal radar. She couldn't stand still, fidgeting as she jumped at the slightest gust of wind. She nearly dared to open her eyes when Finny's jacket slipped on her shoulders, but she restrained herself and righted the garment with one hand. She heard the crunch of snow, and suddenly Finny was with her again.

"Alright," he whispered gleefully. "Open your eyes!" Anya didn't need to be told twice. Her eyelids flew up almost before the words were out of Finny's mouth. She had planned to scold him for making her wait in the dark for so long, but the sight before her took her breath away.

They were standing in the center of the maze, at the edge of the pond where Anya had first spotted Finny. The water was completely frozen over with solid ice, and it shone like starlight in the dark night. And sitting on the ice, only a few feet away from them, were two magnificent swans. The great birds were huddled together to keep the chill wind at bay, and Anya realized with amazement that they were both sound asleep. The female's graceful neck was tucked neatly under her wing, and her partner had settled his own regal head over her back like a sheltering arm.

"Oh, _Finny,_" Anya whispered. "They're so beautiful. How did you know they would be here?" Finny wound his arm around her waist, drawing her closer to him. Anya was surprised at the rather forward gesture, but said nothing, enjoying the moment and their shared body heat.

"They always sleep here when the water freezes over," Finny said softly. "They live on a lake a few miles from here. A few winters ago, a blizzard blew them clear across the country into the garden. The pen had a broken wing, and the cob refused to leave her side. It took me three days to convince him to let me close enough to fix her up. Ever since then, they come here when their home freezes."

"So beautiful," Anya repeated dazedly. "That pen is a lucky girl. Have you named them?"

Finny shrugged. "I thought I might, once, but I never got around to it. Nothing seemed to fit them well enough. Besides, they don't live here, so I didn't feel right naming them." He paused, thinking. "What would you call them," he blurted. "If you had to name them?"

Anya studied them for a minute. Maybe it was the fact that the sweet story was fresh on her mind, but she had just the names for such lovely silver swans. "What about Orion and Cygnus?"

Finny nodded, slowly at first but gaining enthusiasm. "That's perfect," he exclaimed. "We'll call them Orion and Cygnus!" He gazed in down in wonder at the brilliant girl in his arms.

"Hush," Anya scolded playfully, flustered by the strange look he was giving her. "You'll wake them. I don't know about you, but I certainly wouldn't want to be the one who awoke dear Cygnus and faced Orion's wrath!" Finny quieted, and his eyes suddenly became very serious. Anya laughed nervously, but didn't move away.

"The cob protects the pen," Finny murmured. "Do you know why?" Anya shook her head slowly, wondering where on earth he was going with this. Finny abruptly removed his arm from Anya's waist and brought her around to face him.

"It's because loves her more than anything else." His eyes were pleading with her, begging her to understand something that she was starting to grasp, but couldn't quite believe.

"What are you saying?" she asked softly, noticing how close together they were. She could have reached out and touched him, and she found that she might want to. Finny didn't answer Anya, but gestured to the glade around them.

"What do you think of when you see this place, Anya?"

"It's very special to me," she answered sincerely. "This is where the two of us first met." Anya pointed limply to a spot on the bank of the pond. "You were there, feeding the ducks. I never told you this, but I was totally lost in the maze before I found you. I heard you laughing and followed the sound." She smiled at the memory, letting it wash over her.

"This place is precious to me, too," Finny agreed. "There are so many memories here; Orion and Cygnus, for one. But meeting you here is the best thing by far." He brought a hand to slowly caress the side of Anya's face. The stunned maid could see that Finny didn't even have to try to be firmly in control of his excessive strength; he'd gained more and more control as the days passed.

"Finny, I …" Anya stopped midsentence as the older boy's hand moved to the back of her head, brushing through the ringlets of dark hair. There was a minute amount of pressure, so light that Anya felt she might have imagined it. But she finally understood what Finny had been trying to tell her all night.

_**Meanwhile, at the party**_

"Sebastian!" Ciel roared. "Who invited _them?_" The Earl pointed an accusing finger at the four unwelcome guests in his parlor. The redhead in particular was driving him insane, attempting vainly to catch a certain suave butler under the mistletoe.

"I assure you, my lord; I would not dream of letting these creatures within a mile of the house if I were able to access my full powers." Sebastian somersaulted over Grelle's head. "No offense to you, Undertaker, but Shinigami rather set me on edge."

"AHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!" chortled the Undertaker. "This is- too much! The greatest Christmas gift of laughter! AHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!"

"Now really," Ronald Knox complained to his boss. "Is that any holiday welcome for guests? I was sure Lord Phantomhive would be more hospitable." He sighed before helping himself to cider and snacks.

"The food is free," William noted. "Eat while you can, Knox. And enjoy the show; it's quite entertaining."

So the three Shinigami watched in amusement while their companion failed repeatedly to entice that skilled butler. Ciel could only shake his head in wonder before leaving to entertain his other (more _humane_) guests.

_**Back in the garden^^**_

As Finny brought his face closer to hers, Anya felt a panicked tightness in her chest. Unwelcome memories sprung to the forefront of her mind; Alois's mouth on hers, hot and rough; his hands violating her, and she herself unable to stop him. Finny must have felt her hesitation; he paused, concerned. He was studying Anya's face carefully, making sure he wasn't overstepping the mark.

And that was all it took to remind Anya that Finny was nothing like Alois Trancy. Alois had tried to take from her what she was unwilling to give. Finny would never do anything to hurt her, and he wasn't taking anything. He was giving her something that she wanted more deeply than water or air or the sun. When Anya stood on her toes to meet him halfway, Finny gave her a promise of all the love and companionship that she could ever want in a simple, chaste kiss.

It was nothing like Alois's forceful advances. Instead of fear, Anya was overflowing with peace and a glowing happiness. The kiss was over in a heartbeat, but she had felt all of the emotion that Finny had bottled up inside him spill out in that short moment. When Finny pulled away, his face defying the laws of physics and somehow going past red to dark purple, he looked both satisfied with himself and vulnerable at the same time.

"I love you, Anya," Finny finally confessed, and would be eternally grateful that his voice didn't break. He enclosed her hand in both of his, blushing at her through his combed bangs. Anya slowly closed her other hand on top of his, and suddenly laughed. She hugged Finny's neck tightly, the jacket falling from her shoulders and drooping to the grass.

"Me too," she declared. She clung to the back of Finny's shirt, her ear resting over his fluttering heart. She laughed at the irregular beat. "I love you too, Finny."

The overjoyed gardener wrapped his arms around the girl of his dreams, drawing her even closer. Unable to help himself, he drew back and lifted Anya off her feet, earning a yelp and making Anya clutch at his sleeves.

"I love you," Finny reminded her after setting her back on her feet. He took one more look at the dozing birds before retrieving his fallen jacket. He draped it tenderly on Anya's shoulders once again to shield her from the December wind. He offered his arm again to take her back inside.

Anya grinned, clasping his hand instead. "I love you too."

* * *

><p>Anya breathed in the late night air. The cool stone bench under her was cushioned by the warm blanket that she had brought with her. After returning to the party, she and Finny had been harassed by both Bard and Lady Elizabeth for over an hour before the last guests finally decided to leave. Aside from earning a terse apology from William for stabbing her (this was out of Finny's earshot, of course), the evening had progressed without incident.<p>

But Anya found that she was unable to find sleep. So, dressed in her warm work clothes, she had snuck out into the garden to watch the sky. She supposed that her insomnia might have been caused by the strong cider that Sebastian _conveniently_ slipped to her by accident, but the element buzzing through her blood didn't feel muddled like she imagined alcohol would be.

"So I guess this is how it feels when your life is complete," Anya said aloud. Wind carried her voice away almost instantly, absorbing her happy words into the void. "I have a new home and family, a job that's more like pleasure than work, and the kindest boy in all the world loves me back." Anya paused, wondering just who she was talking to. Maybe it was partially the cider after all. But then she realized who it was she wanted to talk to more than anyone else at the moment.

"I wish you were here, Mum," Anya whispered. "And you, Father. I want to tell you how happy I am, and how good my friends are to me." She looked beseechingly at the stars, as if her parents would somehow materialize before her very eyes. "What happened to you, Father?" She had been pondering it for some time, and Anya realized that she wouldn't be able to rest easy until she found out.

"Would you like to know?" A male voice emanated from the shadows. Anya leapt to her feet with a shrill cry. It was cut off after only a second by a gentle hand.

"I'm terribly sorry, miss. I didn't mean to startle you," the man expressed in apology. Anya whirled around, slapping the hand away from her. Through the darkness, she could make out a familiar shape and the gleam of small, rectangular spectacles.

"Claude Faustus?" Anya gasped. "W- What are _you _doing here?"

"Please, keep your voice down," Claude shushed. "I come only to deliver a message from my master."

Anya drew herself up. "First of all," she menaced. "I'm sure you master has heard of the _mail_. Lord knows he's sent out enough invitations in the past few months. Second, no one in this house wants anything to do with _Earl _Trancy. That said, you should be on your way."

Claude bowed his head. "Forgive me, Miss Criel, but I am unable to do that. My master gave me strict instructions, and I cannot deviate from them. Would you please allow me to at least convey the message? It may be of great importance to you."

Anya felt her resolve thinning. After all, Claude was bound to serve Alois, wasn't he? He was just a puppet in the grand scheme of it. _I wonder what he does to instill such loyalty, because I know it isn't from mutual love and respect, as it is with Ciel._

"Fine," she sighed. "But if you try anything funny, I will scream for real, and Sebastian will tear you apart." Claude bowed gratefully to her and recited his message.

"The Earl Alois Trancy offers his apologies for getting you caught in the crossfire during his quest to exact his revenge on Lord Phantomhive. He wishes for you to accompany me back to meet with him and talk with him alone."

"You must think I'm insane," Anya scoffed. "Claude, give me one good reason why I should go anywhere with you, alone or otherwise."

"Because my master knows how your father died," Claude supplied bluntly.

"Liar," Anya accused. "You heard me talking."

"Ah, but did you mention his name? I happen to know that your father was Ian James Criel, a gardener of the grounds of Rosenbloom estate. And, as I said, my master can give you all the details of his death if you wish. All you need to do is come with me."

Anya hesitated. Claude could be telling the truth; how else would he know so much about her father? "And after I meet with him?"

"I am to escort you safely home," the butler replied smoothly. Anya bit her lip, weighing the odds. She really should tell someone… but everyone was asleep, and how could she pass up this chance?

"Okay," she reluctantly relented. "But as soon as I'm done meeting with him, you are to bring me straight home!" Claude bowed, and actually graced her with a rare smile.

"Thank you, Miss Criel. My master will be pleased." He extended his elbow to Anya, who tentatively took hold of it. Before she could even cry out, they were flying across the countryside and into London at impossible speeds. As the warm blanket folded to the frozen ground and the garden became peaceful once again, a single white rectangle glowed on the stone bench, shining in the starlight.

The seal on the envelope was imprinted with the crest of a large spider; a calling card from the Trancy butler.

* * *

><p><strong>Dun dun duuuun! So? Whatcha think?<strong>

**Moony: Sappy. Cheesy. Cliche.**

**SHUT UP! Anyway, the Cygnus story? I only half remembered it from a project all the way back in _third grade._ I tried to look it up again, but couldn't find it. So whatever I couldn't remember... I made up^^ Plus, I learned that a female swan is a pen and a male is a cob. Weird.**

**Moony: Well, good job I guess. And happy birthday. On another side note, our friend yaoisaveslives is constantly updating her Kuro Fanfic, and even I think it's worth reading.**

**Aww, Moons! You do care! Love ya, Holly-chan, and R&R everyone!**


	8. Chapter 8

**UWAAAAH! Gomenasai! I had the best birthday ever and wrote about half of this, and then I got MAJOR writer's block! **

**Moony: Said block had several causes; math, stress, birthday, hair, contacts, MATH, projects, and general depression.**

**Muh-hoony! I'm so sad! T.T Okay, so math=horrible. What else is new? And my mother decided I needed a makeover, so my hair now looks like France's from Hetalia. It used to be _down to my waist. WTH?_ General depression? Yeah, I just got through my first breakup. Four days after my birthday. Sadness. **

**Moony: They don't care...**

**I know, and you all probably hate me for not updating, right? Well, let's just say that I got my hair cut on Thursday, made the France connection on Friday, got inspired, and finished the chapter today, on Monday. That's 5000 words in 3.3 days! I really busted my butt, so I hope y'all like it!**

**Moony: Maya-chan doesn't own Kuro/Black Butler. After this chapter, you will be very glad of that fact.**

* * *

><p>The gale-force winds tore Anya's screams from her lips, dragging them from the back of her throat, smothering her. Her eyes had been forced to scrunch closed against the biting speed of the frigid air whipping by them.<p>

Claude's arm was too tight around her waist as he carried Anya along at the frightening pace. This wasn't the natural flight of arcing into the air and coming back down; this was something wild and far beyond human control. Anya forced her tearing eyes open and saw a world of color pass by her in an instant. She struggled to loosen Claude's arm, which was nearly crushing the breath from her lungs.

"Don't," Claude yelled over the whooshing of the hurricane. "You'll fall. We're almost there." And suddenly, the universe was silent again. Claude finally released Anya, and her weak knees gave out on her. She sat on the cold marble floor and tried to calm her shuddering breaths. The bespectacled butler stood a respectful distance away while she gathered her wits.

"What was _that?" _she finally gasped. "W-Where are we?" She pried her streaming eyes from the cool marble to take in a small but homey bedroom. The walls were painted a clear, icy blue, and the bedclothes were light green. Gauzy curtains veiled a wall-to-wall window by the bed. A small fire sputtered in a stone fireplace against the far wall. Anya instinctively drew closer, relishing the warmth after her chilling journey.

"Welcome to le Hôtel Bourgogne & Montana," Claude informed her as he reached over her shoulder to stoke the fire. "Compliments of my master, this will be your suite this evening."

"My suite?" Anya grew suspicious. "Y-You said that after I met with Alois, you would bring me home. Why would I need a hotel room?" Nonetheless, she inched closer to the flames, and gave Claude a grateful smile.

The butler raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry my lady, but that was quite a feat I just pulled. Do you think that I would be able to travel the distance between London and Paris like that twice in one evening?"

"Paris!" Anya exclaimed. She pushed herself off the floor and ran to the window, snapping the curtains aside. Light spilled into the dim room, and Anya reeled back at the sight of the window's historic view.

"The Eiffel Tower does look lovely tonight, doesn't it?" Claude remarked. "You will have to visit it before you leave Paris." Anya stumbled backward, away from the strange butler.

"How did you do that?" she whispered. "Claude… Who- _What _are you?"

"I need not answer," Claude bowed. "You must know yourself, my lady. How else do your wounds heal instantly? How else would you still be alive, even after I snapped your neck?" Anya's eyes widened. She had assumed that it had been William's spear that almost ended her life, but she did recall that Alois had ordered Claude to kill her as well.

"I forgot about that," Anya breathed. Her hand arose involuntarily to her throat, and she viewed Claude with guarded eyes. The butler actually smiled at her. He _smiled_ as they recounted how he had nearly _killed _her.

"I hope that means that you do not hold a grudge against me, my lady." Anya felt a jolt run up her spine as Claude smirked at her, the expression sparking recognition in her mind. _He looks rather like Sebastian,_ Anya realized. _When they're being cheeky, they both have this… aura around them._ And whenever Anya glimpsed that dark side of the Phantomhive butler, bad fortune was usually not far behind.

"Where's Alois?" Anya asked abruptly. "The quicker I meet with him, the quicker I can go home." Claude's smirk fell from his face instantly, resuming its stoic impression of a statue.

"The Earl awaits you in the dining room of the hotel. He thought it best to discuss this over dinner." He said this as if having dinner in the middle of the night was perfectly normal. Maybe there was a time skip between the two countries? No, that wouldn't be much better… While Anya contemplated the strange ways of Alois Trancy, Claude looked her up and down. "Forgive me, my lady, but might you consider a change of attire? This is a very classy place, and my master insisted that you look your best."

"Let me think about that," Anya deadpanned. "You teleport me across the country without warning, and you expect me to be able to just pull eveningwear out of-"

Claude produced the frilly pink dress from the gala seemingly from thin air. "I assume this to be in your tastes, my lady?"

"… Darn stalkers," the maid mumbled. She hesitantly took the dress from Claude's hands. It was indeed the very gown from the Equinox. _Exactly what I want to be reminded of now that I'm supposed to be meeting Alois civilly. Wonderful._

"I will leave you to change, my lady," Claude bowed and backed slowly to the door. "If you need anything, simply call for me."

"Wait," Anya blurted. "Claude, why are you suddenly being so formal with me? You never called me 'lady' anything before." She watched as the butler cast a curious glance over his shoulder.

"I am merely a butler, my lady," he bowed again. "As such, I shall address nobility by their proper titles. I will return, Lady Criel." With that, he closed the door on her. Anya tried not to be irritated by the soft click that followed.

"I suppose I'd better get this over with," she sighed. "But if that creep tries anything else, I might not mind some limb tearing."

* * *

><p>The dining room of the hotel was completely empty, just as Anya had anticipated. The lights were dim, setting a soft glow to the lavish décor. It seemed that every piece of furniture in the hall was either gold or rich, light mahogany. A single table for two was set in the corner, illuminated by two flickering candles.<p>

"Lady Criel!" Alois called out. He leapt up from his waiting position in one of the two high backed chairs. Anya noted that he was wearing the same sort of outfit as he had been on the night of the gala as well. Alois bowed slightly, and when Anya approached, he placed a gentle kiss on her hand. "You don't know what it means to me that you agreed to meet with me tonight. Thank you for honoring me with your time, my lady."

Anya stumbled back, clutching her hand as if she had touched a hot stove. She wanted to ask the boy who he was and what on earth he had done with that jerk Alois Trancy, but realized that such a statement would be rather rude. So she settled for a shallow curtsy and a mumbled greeting. Alois gestured for them to sit, pulling Anya's chair out for her to sit before seating himself.

"I hope your Christmas Eve has been pleasurable," Alois commented. "It has been a lovely night, hasn't it?"

"Earl Trancy," Anya ignored him stiffly. "I was told that you had information for me. I agreed to this meeting so I could obtain this information and return home as soon as possible."

Alois's bright eyes clouded. He actually looked a little bit hurt. "O-Of course. Your father. I just… I just wanted to make this easier; do it smoothly. But if you want to get down to it, then I won't keep you waiting."

Anya's brain was in overdrive, trying to process the impossible situation that had presented itself. Was Alois Trancy, _Alois Trancy, _trying to be considerate? It was too much to take in at once.

"No," she said automatically. Then she wanted to kick herself in the face. "I mean, I suppose it was some trouble setting all this up. And in Paris, no less! Claude told me that he can't take me back tonight anyway, so we might as well take our time, right?"

Alois's face brightened in an instant. "Oh, I'm so glad, Lady Criel. I wanted to apologize for my horrid behavior when last we met, and it saddened me to think that you wouldn't give me the chance."

The maid squirmed under his intense gaze. Anya knew that Alois was an exceptional actor, but this seemed genuine enough. _Oh, well. Just play along until you find out what you need to know._

"Please don't address me by that title," she requested softly. "You can call me Anya if you like, but I don't like it when people speak to me as if I'm nobility."

"But you are nobility, aren't you?" Alois asked, confused. "Shouldn't you take pride in your status?"

"A status that means I have to wear dresses all the time and attend idiotic parties and be married off to some stranger for money? No, thank you."

The Earl settled his chin on his hands. "You're a very strange girl, Anya. I really can see how lucky Ciel is to have you."

"Lord Trancy-"

"Alois."

"Alright, _Alois_. I don't know where you got the idea that Ciel and I are l-lovers," Anya spat the word out. "But you're wrong. I am a maid to the core, and Lord Phantomhive has become a wonderful friend to me. If anything more, he's like the brother I never had. That's all."

"But I thought-!" Alois was cut off by a waiter who had crept up on them in the darkness of the dining room. The waiter smiled and said several unfamiliar phrases in French before looking at Anya expectantly. Anya realized that she hadn't even looked at the small menu in front of her, not that it would have done her any good if she had. It was all completely in French.

"It's alright," Alois assured her. "I'll take care of it." He promptly spat out their orders in rapid-fire French, and the waiter jotted it all down before retreating with a smile and a wave.

"Why are we the only ones in here?" Anya asked, trying to steer away from their previous topic of conversation. "Shouldn't the hall at least be closed for the night?"

Alois grinned cheekily at her, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "You could say I pulled a few strings. It doesn't hurt to throw your title around every once in a while, see? By the way, I just ordered some beignets for now. If you want something heavier, you can just tell me. I wasn't sure if you'd eaten yet… "

A strange feeling fluttered in Anya's chest, and it took her a moment to place it before almost laughing out loud. Alois Trancy was trying to _charm _her! And, she realized with a jolt, it seemed to be working. She had expected the worst only to be pleasantly surprised at every turn. Anya felt herself relax.

"Th-That's fine," Anya said. "I'm not all that hungry, just getting a little tired. I'm sorry, but do you think you could tell me what you wanted to say, Alois? When I get drowsy I start forgetting things more easily."

Alois gave her a friendly smile. "Very well. Like I said, this will be a shock, but try to not ask any questions until I finish, okay Anya?"

* * *

><p>Finny whistled tunelessly as he took his routine patrol around the garden. The sun would be rising in a few hours, and then it would officially be Christmas day. He wondered what Anya would want to do on their day off, and then blushed. Thinking about Anya tended to make him do that. Finny could still hardly believe that last night had actually happened.<p>

He had hardly slept last night for the adrenaline pumping through him with every pounding beat of his heart. Finny had finally confessed his feelings to Anya, something that he had never thought possible for him to accomplish. The backwash of satisfaction was blown into ecstasy when Anya had confessed that she loved him, too. After the initial hyper energy wore off from the thought, Finny found himself strolling through a world of silver perfection and peace.

He rounded a bush to find himself nearing the bench under the old willow. Finny frowned. At the foot of the small bench was a sodden wool blanket that had been left in the snow. His brow creased in confusion.

"Now what's this doing out here?" He stooped down to shake out the blanket, but a small, glowing shape caught his eye. Abandoning the coverlet, Finny plucked a crisp white envelope from the armrest of the bench. The front was addressed to 'The Earl Ciel Phantomhive'. Unease poked at Finny's stomach. Why would the mail be in the garden? He flipped the envelope over, and his heart nearly gave out.

"Oh, _no,_" Finny shook his head. He glanced from the card in his hands to the blanket on the ground and back again several times. Now that he thought about it, the material would probably much lighter if it were dry, and would look exactly like the warm blanket that Mey-rin had given to-

"Anya." Finny spun on his heel and ran back to the house, his legs pumping as fast as they could through the icy snow and grass. He barreled through the back gate and down the servants' corridor before stumbling to a stop at Anya and Mey-rin's room. He knocked harshly, and hardly waited for a tired voice to mumble, "Come in…" before charging into the room.

"What's wrong, Finny?" Mey-rin yawned, reaching for her glasses. "Is there trouble?" When she didn't receive an answer, Mey-rin let her spectacles fall over her ears and looked up, only to find the room completely empty. She was about to roll over and go back to sleep, but did a double take when she realized that 'completely empty' also meant that her roommate was absent, as well. Her bed was made neatly, and hadn't been slept in.

Finny raced upstairs to the Earl's sleeping quarters, and didn't even bother knocking on the door this time.

Ciel was sound asleep. Or at least he was, until a bundle of panicked nerves broke the handle from his very expensive bedroom doors.

"Finian," he groaned irritably. "It is the _middle of the night_. What do you think you're doing here?" Ciel stuck his hand out blindly for the eye patch on his nightstand. Even when he first woke up, Ciel knew better than to let anyone see his contract seal.

"Young master," Finny said loudly. "I'm sorry for the intrusion, but I need your help now!" He shoved the letter in Ciel's face, which now sported a rather sloppily tied eyepiece. The Earl rubbed the sleep from his eye and blinked at the writing.

"Finian, it's the _mail._ Can't it wait until later? Maybe when the _sun is up?_"

Finny shook his head emphatically. "No, my lord! Oh, here, just look!" Finny turned the card over with shaking hands, revealing the wax seal of the Trancy family to the Earl. Ciel snatched it, instantly awake. He ripped the envelope open without a second thought, and Finny could only watch as Ciel's clear blue eye scanned the page quickly. When he finished, the look on his face confirmed Finny's worst suspicions.

"Get Sebastian," Ciel ordered simply. "And tell him to hurry it up."

"But my lord, what-?"

"That's an _order, _Finny. I promise we're going to fix this." Ciel was switching between the two personalities he knew were needed; a leader to organize things, and someone to make sure Finny's head didn't explode. "You need to get him now, before-"

"There's no need, my lord," a silvery voice flowed into the room. Sebastian entered, straightening his tailcoat as he came. "Is there a problem? And Finian, how many times have I told you to be careful when you open the doors? This makes the second-"

"There's no time for that now," Ciel snapped. He tossed the letter to Sebastian, who read it in seconds and nodded grimly.

"I'll leave immediately."

"I'm going, too!" Finny cried. Surprised, the Earl and his amazing butler turned to the tearful gardener. In the midst of the planning, they had forgotten that Finny was even there. Ciel gave Sebastian a _look_, and Sebastian sighed.

"We're leaving in five minutes."

Finny bowed hurriedly and went to get ready. As he passed Sebastian on his way out the door, the butler folded the envelope into his hand. Finny read while he ran; an incredible feat for some, but the gardener took it in stride as his mind sharpened and cleared.

**You have such a darling new pet; I really think I've taken a liking to her. Her grandfather- Count Rosenbloom, that is. Did you know? - has asked for my assistance in rescuing his poor, defenseless little girl from the despicable Earl who has kept her away from home for so long. You wouldn't want to cause an old man such worry, would you? However, if you wish to take up the matter with me… You know where to find me. I hope you aren't long, because I'm getting rather bored already, and I have a sort of debt to settle with your maid**_**. **_**I plan on having some fun until you arrive.**

_**Yours, Alois Trancy.**_

Oh, yes. Alois Trancy was going to pay dearly.

* * *

><p>Sebastian sighed. "Young master, he'll only be a burden. You know this is a trap; why are you letting him go at all?"<p>

Ciel glared as his butler helped him dress quickly. "Finny's in a state where he will be an utter nuisance if he's left out. While you're off gallivanting with Claude, our gardener will go break all of the other doors just to let off steam. That energy will be better used when focused on rescuing Anya."

"He'll be insufferably reckless," Sebastian warned, almost complaining. "I'll have a lot on my hands with an ambush _and _a lovesick teenager. Finian will run right in there without any thought, and get himself killed." The butler fastened the last buckles on Ciel's shoes and stood abruptly. "Against my own kind, I don't think even I could handle this."

"You can, and you will," Ciel growled. "You are my butler, and I am ordering you not to fail this task. You are going to defeat Alois, rescue Anya, and keep Finny safe. After you find her, Finny will calm down enough to help you. If you couldn't accomplish even this, you wouldn't be a proper butler."

Sebastian bowed reluctantly. "Understood. Is there anything you require before we go?"

Ciel took his hat and walking stick from the table. "Tell Bard to give Finny some sort of firearms; brute strength won't always work at a distance, and I have a feeling that there may be humans involved this time."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "You suspect Count Rosenbloom?"

"Of course. Alois would need information before pulling a stunt like this after spending weeks in hiding. The only invader to ever leave this house alive is Eugene, and I doubt he kept quiet about it. Now get Finny and go." In a flash, Sebastian had seemingly evaporated on the spot. Ciel clenched his fists and stalked out of his bedroom, making his way to the study.

Looking around, he shut the door softly behind him before peeking through the curtains. In the faint starlight, he saw Finny and Sebastian each mount a horse and set off at a canter. The rifle strapped to the younger boy's back winked at him through the window. The Earl felt a twinge of doubt; his butler would have been able to reach the Trancy estate in minutes without having to keep up his human façade.

_Perhaps I shouldn't have let Finny go…_

The thought was wiped from his mind as his gardener's panicked face flashed before his eye. The boy had looked confused and angry, and so _scared._ Ciel decided that, however inconvenient, he had made the right decision. But just in case…

Ciel sighed and slowly picked up the receiving end of his telephone. He dialed the number that he knew by heart, and waited anxiously while it rang. Finally, there was a soft click at the other end.

"Hello, this is the Phantomhive residence. The Earl is not currently-"

"Agni, it's me," the Earl cut in. "I need you to listen carefully…"

* * *

><p>Anya slumped back into the ornate chair, gasping for breath. Could everything that Alois had told her really be true? Alois reached across the table slowly and patted her hand. Anya drew it back and set it in her lap; not rudely, but not exactly politely, either.<p>

"It's alright," Alois sympathized. "I know this is a lot to take in so suddenly, but I promise, it isn't as bad as it seems."

"Alright?" Anya repeated hysterically. "How can this possibly be alright? The man who raised me as his daughter is my grandfather, and on top of it all, he _shot _my father!" She tried to force back the tears that were welling in her eyes, but they refused to obey. Alois procured a handkerchief for her and courteously looked away so Anya could compose herself.

"Y-You're doing it again," she sniffed. "Why are you being so n-nice? You were very cruel the last time we met." Alois hung his head.

"I apologize again for that," he said, shamefaced. "I thought- I thought that Ciel was in love with you. When he showed up to the party without Elizabeth, I figured that you were together."

"I've had a rough past with Ciel," Alois explained, reaching for the untouched platter of pastries. "We've crossed each other too many times to count. I wanted revenge so badly, it made me crazy. So I wanted to make it up to you for the way I acted. I did some digging, and uncovered all of this."

"But Ciel knew everything the Yard knew about my parents," Anya argued. "Why wouldn't he have known all of this, too? Wouldn't there have been birth certificates, marriage licenses?" She also took one of the powdery beignets. They were actually extremely delicious.

Alois shrugged. "You were searching for the cause of your father's death, correct? Ciel just probably never thought to look at your mother's maiden name or your parents' marriage records. They were irrelevant to the case at hand."

"I guess that makes sense," Anya mused as she gulped down the last of the sweet. "Alois, thank you for telling me all this, but could Claude please take me home now? I need to go back and think about everything."

Alois frowned. "Didn't Claude tell you? He can't make a trip like that again tonight. You wouldn't believe how much it takes out of him." He glanced quizzically at his butler, who was standing nearby in the shadows. Anya hadn't noticed before, but Alois was right. Claude looked even paler than normal, and there was a hint of a slouch in his usually perfect posture.

"About that," Anya began. "How was that even _possible_? Nobody could ever travel that quickly; it goes against all modern laws of physics!" She twisted a lock of hair between her fingers in frustration. "Claude, you can't be human!"

Alois and Claude exchanged a brief look. To Anya's confusion and amazement, they started _laughing._ She glared indignantly at them, and they reigned in their chuckles with their apologies.

"Why was that funny?" Anya demanded. "You can't- you don't _honestly _mean…" She trailed off, thinking of the strange and impossible happenings of the past few weeks. "Did somebody do things to you, like they did to Finny?" she asked softly.

Claude shook his head. "I assure you, my essence has been the same for as long as I have lived."

"Anya," Alois cut in. "That night, I think I must have said something to you when you called the Earl by his first name? I thought you would have known then, actually. Do you remember what it was?"

Anya closed her eyes. She had pushed those memories to the very back of her consciousness, but they had continued to linger where they weren't wanted. Now she let them wash over her. Snatches of conversation ghosted across her senses.

_Claude…_

_She will wake soon…_

_She doesn't like your voice…_

_Yes, your highness…_

_You're my key to Ciel…_

_Not even his precious demon…_

_**Demon**_**.**

_This talk of demons was madness!_

"You were being serious," Anya gasped, feeling green. She whipped her head around to stare at Claude. "So you… and Sebastian… you're both… _demons?_"

"That's one of the names for them, yes," Alois supplied casually. "Haven't you ever wondered why your butler friend says that tired old phrase of his with that smirk on his face? He's proclaiming himself to the world, but no one even notices." Alois slowly stuck his tongue out of his mouth, revealing a startling pattern engraved there.

"That is the seal binding me to my master," Claude whispered at her shoulder. Anya jumped, not having heard him approach. He tugged loosely at his gloved hand, revealing the same mark. "I will serve and protect him until our contract is complete."

"And what happens when the contract is complete?"

"You don't want to know," Alois advised. "Now, our question is: What are _you?_"

Anya gaped at him, indignation kick-starting her brain into functioning again. "I'm a _girl_, thank you very much! I think I would know if I wasn't human, don't you?"

"Yes," Alois mused. "You would think so, wouldn't you? But there's no denying that you are no ordinary human, Anya Criel. You're special." He ignored the maid's flaming face and ticked things off on his fingers. "You heal at a remarkable rate, although you seemingly have no extraordinary skills. You've somehow beguiled the entire Phantomhive household. William Spears, one of the best Shinigami currently in business, was unable to take your soul. Are those the qualities of a normal human?"

"… William is a _what_?"

"Think of them as grim reapers," Claude explained. "And of course, there's the fact that your destiny was interfered with. It's why the reaper couldn't take your soul."

Anya nodded, struggling to keep a level head. "What do mean, my destiny was interfered with? Who changed it?"

"That is a very interesting question. Claude, are you sure she doesn't smell like a demon?" Alois chose not to notice Anya's injured look. After all, calling a young lady a demon is not the best way to befriend her.

"I am positive, your highness," the demon butler answered, inhaling deeply. His voice took on a wistful note. "There is something else, however. I- I haven't sensed this presence in centuries." He snapped his fingers, finally coming to a realization. "Your highness, she has the Blessing of an angel!"

"Is that so?" Alois didn't seem very surprised. "Then she could be very useful to us."

"That's enough!" Anya cried, standing. "Don't talk about me as if I'm not even here. I'm going home, whether you take me or not." She stalked away from the table in a huff, ready to go to her 'suite' and retrieve her own clothes.

"Wait," Alois backpedaled, scraping to his feet as well. "I apologize; that was extremely rude of us." He motioned for someone to approach the table. A silver-haired girl stepped forward and curtsied. "This is Hannah. She's only just arrived." Anya waved shyly, and Hannah gave her a sad smile.

"Hannah," Claude ordered. "You will escort Lady Criel… home." The older girl curtsied again and gestured for Anya to follow her. As soon as they were beyond the doorway, Alois whirled on Claude.

"You said it would work," he snarled. "Why didn't she stay? The Count wants her happy!"

"When I said, 'Be charming,' I didn't mean to treat her as an asset, young master," Claude spoke cautiously. "Count Rosenbloom was very clear about the terms of the agreement. If you can wean her away from the Phantomhives-"

"I know the terms," Alois snapped. "And I thought I was being perfectly cordial. What else can I do? And now you've gone and let her go! Are you some sort of idiot?"

"Force definitely hasn't worked before," the butler reminded him. "The only way to convince Lady Criel is to win her over gradually. Think of trying to train a wild horse without breaking it." _Which is basically impossible, _was the sentence that hung in the air, unspoken.

"I was going to do that here," the blonde grumbled. "This is Paris, the most magical city in the world! If you want to talk a girl into anything, this is the place to do it. People fawn over the lights and the language, and they turn to mush. I didn't tell you to let her go, so why on earth would you send her back to our enemies?"

"I didn't," Claude stated. "I told Hannah to take her _home_. Trust me; she understood."

Alois's face broke into a wide grin. "Well, you're not as idiotic as I thought, are you? Is the butler on his way?"

"He's bringing the gardener with him. Strange, seeing as he must know it's a trap."

"Not strange at all," Alois sang. His were the eyes of someone who knew a secret. "Didn't you see her face when she asked you if you'd been experimented on? She's not in love with Ciel; she loves that clumsy gardener of his!"

"And that means…?" Claude smirked.

"Yes. Tonight is going to be very interesting."

* * *

><p>"So, Hannah," Anya said. "Are- Are you a demon, too?"<p>

"Yes, my lady," the older maid answered. "I serve my master loyally, and do my best to fulfill his wish." The two girls were walked up the numerous flights of stairs to Anya's room and entered. Anya stepped into the washroom to change while Hannah put out the fire.

"What is Alois's wish?" Anya called through the door.

Hannah froze at the question. "Alois Trancy is not my master," she whispered. Anya returned then, dressed in her winter work clothes with the pink dress draped over her arm. She stared at Hannah, confused.

"What? Then why are you working for him?"

"It is his brother that I have a contract with, my lady. Master Luka's dearest wish is to make his brother happy, and that is what I have to do." Hannah walked to stand by Anya and held out her hand. "Are you ready to go home, my lady?"

"Yes," Anya said. "But please, call me Anya." She smiled warmly. "I never had many girlfriends to talk to… the only other girl I really know is Mey-rin. Will you please be my friend, Hannah? We can write to each other and everything!"

Hannah looked surprised, but composed her face quickly. "I look forward to it, Anya." Anya braced herself and clutched Hannah's hand tightly. She barely saw the maid move before she felt an aching pain in the back of her head. As the world once again melted into light and shadows, Anya's consciousness finally slipped. She felt herself falling into a deep chasm. Anya heard only one thing above the rushing wind.

"I'm sorry, my friend," Hannah cried sadly. "I've doomed you!"

* * *

><p>Finny crept along behind Sebastian, doing his best to keep quiet. The Trancy manor house loomed before them, and every window was devoid of light. Unease rose like bile in the gardener's throat, threatening to turn the rifle in his hands to splinters. Finny's worry was making him lose control; literally.<p>

"Finny," Sebastian whispered. "They know that we're coming, so keep sharp. You can't afford to be… how you normally are."

Finny let the insult roll off of him and grunted his assent. The rescue party of two approached the front doors of the mansion… which swung open for them without a sound. Without speaking, Sebastian motioned for Finny to follow him slowly. The hall was flooded with moonlight as they cautiously crossed the floor. The butler walked at a steady pace and remained perfectly placid. The gardener trailed behind with a noticeable twitch.

Suddenly, the door slammed behind them, cutting off all light. Finny moved so he was back to back with Sebastian, straining for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Sebastian could feel his friend shaking.

"So you came."

"Whaaaa!" Finny whirled toward the single lantern hovering to his right. He trained his rifle right in between the twin pools of reflected hazel light. "Who's there?"

"Why, gardener! I can't believe you would forget me so easily," Eugene grinned, lifting the lamp close to his face. Bumps and scratches were still scattered across his features, and Finny felt an ephemeral spurt of satisfaction. Sebastian joined him and, to the gardener's outrage, bowed lightly to the stable hand.

"We have come to retrieve Miss Criel. If you would be so kind, where can we find her?"

Eugene stared, and then laughed out loud. "Why, she's at home, of course! Why would she have moved into Lord Trancy's home _already_?" His carefree tone didn't match his eyes; they were bitterly sad.

"No, she isn't," Finny growled. All traces of fear gone, he menaced Eugene with the rifle. "Trancy took her, so she isn't home. And why would she move here? Anya lives with us." Eugene just shook his head and laughed again.

"Not anymore," he jeered. "She's with her real family now, and that could soon very well include Earl Trancy. Why do you think I'm here? You thought I was your welcoming committee? I was just bringing Lady Criel's things to her new room. After she talks with her grandfather, Anya will be living under the Earl's protection."

"Protection!" Finny shouted. "Alois is the one that Anya needs protecting from! You're crazy!"

"Finian," Sebastian barked. To Eugene, he snapped, "You spoke of Anya's grandfather? Just who would that be?"

"Count Rosenbloom, of course," Eugene mumbled. He seemed much more willing to talk with Sebastian civilly than Finny. "He adopted her as his daughter, but Amelia Criel was his blood daughter." He watched Sebastian warily. "Like I said, she'll be here soon. If you want to wait-"

"Don't lie to me, boy," Sebastian scoffed. "You're not very good at it. I can sense that Anya is here, or I wouldn't have bothered with you at all. That essence isn't easy to miss." Eugene blanched.

"I knew it," he whispered. "You're freaks, all of you!" He turned to run up the stairs, but Sebastian caught his arm and sent the lantern flying. The light was snuffed out instantly, leaving the trio in darkness once again.

Sebastian sighed. "Finian, hold on to my arm. We're going upstairs to retrieve your girlfriend."

"She's not my-!" Finny spurted.

"Wait!" Eugene wailed. "Look, I don't want this any more than you do." His tone was desperate now. "You care for Anya, don't you gardener? Well, I do too. I don't want her to be stuck with that creep for the rest of her life, either."

Finny froze, glaring into the darkness. Sebastian was forced to come to a halt as well. The gardener walked forward until he reached Eugene, and gripped him by the collar.

"I'm giving you thirty seconds to explain whatever you just said."

"Count Rosenbloom made a deal," Eugene blurted instantly, scrabbling at Finny's hand vainly. "If Trancy returned Anya to us, she would be b-betrothed to him." Tears slid down his cheeks and onto Finny's hand. "He wants her to be happy, but I know she won't be able to live with him day after day. If there is anything I ever learned about my best friend, it's that she is incredibly stubborn. If she doesn't have a good reason for doing something, there's no one in the world who can make her do it. It- It's one of the things I love most about her!"

Finny released the older boy. "Betrothed? Why would Trancy marry her? For crying out loud, she's only fourteen!"

"Fifteen in two weeks," Eugene mumbled. "But you're right; he wouldn't marry her until they were both old enough. Appearances, and all that."

"But what would he do until then? Keep her in a cage?" The hitch in Eugene's breath showed Finny just how accurate his suspicion could be. Both boys started as a light appeared near them. They squinted at the relit lantern in Sebastian's hand.

"As I understand it, you are saying that you would be willing to help us?"

Eugene shivered under the butler's glare. "Of course. I never thought that the Count would take things this far, and I never wanted to hurt Anya like this."

"Why now?" Finny shot back suspiciously. "I thought you wanted to get some sort of demon out of Anya. What made you change your mind?"

"I know now what a real demon is like," Eugene promised, still shrinking away from Sebastian. "And Anya definitely isn't one." He fixed his eyes on his shoes. "And- And I know that you can take better care of her than I can."

"That settles it, then," Sebastian smiled. "Follow me, gentlemen."

"But Sebastian," Finny protested. "How do you know where-?"

"Just trust him, gardener," Eugene assured him. "I'm positive that he knows what he is doing." Sebastian thanked the lad with a grin and raced up the stairs. Finny and Eugene stared at each other in the receding lamplight.

"Truce, gardener?"

"Until we find her." They nodded and took off after the butler.

* * *

><p><em>Not again, <em>Anya despaired. _How many times is this going to happen to me?_ She made herself focus her mind, and the befuddling fog cleared quickly. She peeled her eyes open to a familiar sight; her bedroom at Rosenbloom manor. Everything was just as she had left it; a small collection of stuffed animals from her younger years sat forgotten in the corner, her bookshelf was in its usual disarray, and the stars twinkled merrily at her through the curtains.

The only difference was the company.

"Sweet holy mother of Jesus!" Anya hurled herself from her bed, falling ungracefully to the floor. She pulled her nightgown down across her legs and peeked over the top of the comforter at the rousing figure in her bed.

"Whassamatter?" Alois yawned. "I was having a nice dream." He looked around until he spotted the top half of Anya's face blinking at him. "I say, what are you doing down there?"

"What are _you _doing in my _bed_?" Anya screamed. "For that matter, what was _I_ doing there? I thought Hannah was taking me home!"

"You are home, darling," Alois crooned. He sat up further, and Anya blushed at the sight of his bare torso.

_Please be wearing trousers please be wearing trousers please be wearing trousers!_

"N-no I'm not," she stuttered. "This is Lord Rosenbloom's estate. This isn't my home anymore. I- I want to go back to the manor!" Anya finally stood, not liking talking to Alois while on her knees one bit. "And just who do you think you are, calling me 'darling'? I've never seen such impudence from a noble!"

"_I'm_ impudent?" said noble chuckled. "_You're_ the one who is being very rude to her fiancé." He threw back the comforter and pulled open the curtains. "And I'm sure you'll find that this isn't your grandfather's house."

"My _fiancé?"_ Anya's voice dripped venom, although she was inwardly relieved to see that Alois wasn't completely naked; he was wearing soft cotton trousers. "Why was I not informed? Oh, wait- because there is _no way on earth _that we are engaged!"

"There is if your legal guardian gave his consent," Alois amended. "Which he did. You know nobility these days; marrying their daughters off to rich young men to get them out of their hair. And, as I may have mentioned, he has succeeded beautifully." He backed away from the window with a bow. Anya approached slowly, watching Alois with frightened eyes.

"This isn't Lord Rosenbloom's estate," she whispered. The garden, instead of the semi-well gardened landscape she was used to, was a desolate collection of twigs. It made Anya's heart ache; not only because of the sad little plants, but because it made her long for _their _garden, her and Finny's.

"Welcome home, _darling_."

Anya clenched her jaw against the hot breath on her cheek. A pair of arms wrapped around her from behind, draping tightly across her waist. She tried to shrug him off, but his grip was firm, and his embrace trapped her arms against her sides.

"Would it really be all that bad?" Alois asked huskily. "I already took all this trouble to make this room more familiar for you." He buried his face in the crook of Anya's neck, causing her no small deal of discomfort.

"Yes," she seethed. "It would. Why are you even doing this? For the money? If that's all you want, you can have it. Another small fortune wouldn't make a difference to you, anyway."

"I have a grudge," he spoke into her hair. "A score to settle, you might say."

"You already know that Ciel doesn't love me!"

"Doesn't matter," Alois teased. He pulled her in closer, tighter. "The chaos in his household is just a bonus. My new target has been you."

"Why?" Anya struggled again, but Alois just tightened his arms painfully. "What did I ever do to you?"

"Now, it isn't what you've done," he explained. "It's what you're going to do. Do you know what the Blessing means? The household of the Blessed is protected from misfortune; it's literally like a shield made of horseshoes and clover. The Blessing moves with you; first to your grandfather's house, then Ciel's. Imagine what will happen when you make your home here. I'll be able to beat Ciel easily."

"That will happen," Anya said calmly. "Over my dead body." She threw all of her weight forward, but Alois had anticipated it. He captured her wrists and held them over her head on the wall. He pinned Anya to the wall with all of his weight.

"Don't you get it?" he said irritably. "You can't get away. You might as well give up before you make me really angry. We both know that you aren't strong enough to defend yourself against me; shall we have a repeat of that night? We wouldn't be_ interrupted_ this time." Alois transferred both of her wrists into one hand, his free one fingering the collar of her nightgown.

"Keep your hands _off_ of me," Anya hissed. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't wrench out of Alois's grip. Claustrophobia pressed in on her heart, sending it into overdrive. "Let me go, or I'll-"

"Do what, exactly? Every servant here is a demon under my control. They won't come if you call for help." He kissed the back of her neck lightly, chuckling at the shudder that coursed down her spine. "What's the matter? Wishing I was your gardener friend?"

"You don't know anything about-!"

"Oh, but I do," Alois smirked. "Did you know that you talk in your sleep?"

"… Stupid stalker!"

"You're cute, you know that? Now just keep-" He stopped midsentence, not moving a muscle. Anya tried to free herself again, but Alois paid her about as much mind as a mosquito. In one silent, fluid motion, he grabbed Anya by the waist and pulled her back to the bed.

"Don't make a sound," he threatened. He reached into the nightstand drawer with one hand and pulled out a small pistol. Then he positioned them so that they were facing the door, with Anya slightly in front of him. He grasped her elbow and rested the muzzle of the gun under her chin, reminding her not to move or speak. And he waited.

Seconds later, a soft click and the jingle of metal were heard as someone unlocked the door and slowly pushed it open.

"Whoa," Eugene said. "Am I interrupting something?" Anya knew him well enough to see through his perverted, twisted sarcasm to the shock and fear underneath. "I can come back later, if you want…"

"What are you doing here?" Alois snapped, not lowering the gun. "I gave explicit instructions not to be disturbed."

"Oh," the stable boy stalled. "Well, you see… there was this _thing,_ and-"

Alois sighed and set the pistol down on the comforter. He was so focused on his scorn for Eugene's rambling that he didn't notice the shiny head of a rifle in the doorway at floor level.

A loud _crack_ echoed through the room, and Alois reeled away from Anya, clutching at his shoulder. Anya didn't hesitate before running straight for the door. Eugene was right on her heels.

"Anya," Finny gasped. "Are you alright?" His hands hovered around her, unsure of what to do. "Are you hurt anywhere?" Anya didn't answer, but hugged him tightly. The rifle fell from Finny's hands as he hugged her back. It felt like weeks rather than hours since Anya had left, and both felt the crushing worry of the night lift from their shoulders. Then they both finally realized that Anya was wearing nothing but her lacy nightclothes.

"Um," Finny stammered. "We should leave before-"

"CLAUDE!"

"-he calls for help," the gardener finished.

"Get outside to the horses," Sebastian ordered. Anya jumped. She hadn't even noticed the butler until he had spoken. "I will handle Claude. Finian, get going, and remember your orders."

Finny nodded gravely. He shrugged out of his jacket and thrust it at Anya before making a break for the front doors. Eugene followed with the lantern. They made it all the way to the doors before a voice rang out behind them.

"That's enough!" Alois called. He stood on the top stair with a pistol in one hand and a key ring in the other. "That door is locked tight; you can thank the turncoat for that. It seems he dropped this on the way out." He dangled the keys in front of him, seemingly not feeling any pain from his bleeding shoulder.

Finny and Anya glared at Eugene, who looked like he wanted to pound his head into the wall. "Don't look at me like that! Gardener dropped his gun!" Finny clenched his fists and pushed Anya behind him. He could try to simply break the door down, but Trancy might shoot and hurt someone, including Anya. Anya pulled uselessly on the door handle, but it refused to yield.

"I'm surprised," Alois taunted, descending the stairs slowly. He knew he had all the time in the world. "I didn't think the stable boy would have the grit to double-cross me. What made you switch sides? Couldn't handle your girl being taken from you again?" He stopped only a few feet from the cornered trio.

"Don't come any closer," Finny barked. "Just let us go."

"You aren't in any position to give me orders, Finny," Alois laughed. "You don't have the guts to take me on, even if you have the strength. I could kill you now just to be done with you, but I don't think I will… just yet." He cocked the pistol. "Anya, walk over here if you don't want me to shoot."

"Not on your life," she spat. "I'd rather pull the trigger myself than go anywhere with you!" Then she realized that Alois wasn't aiming at her. The gun was locked on Finny's heart.

"As you wish."

Finny was far too slow to react. The bullet ripped through his shirt like tissue paper. He keeled over into Anya, knocking them both to the ground.

"Finny!" Anya hardly recognized the scream as her own. She frantically scrabbled at the buttons of his shirt to uncover the wound. Her fingers were trembling too much, however, and her vision was blurred with tears. Finally, Eugene helped her rip the garment off.

"That looks bad," Eugene winced. "Really bad."

"Alois!" Anya screeched. "You- you-!"

"Ah ah ah," Alois tutted. "You're the one who said to go ahead and shoot. This is where rebellion got you; with a traitor, a corpse, and nowhere to turn. I'll only ask once more." He pointed the smoking pistol at Eugene. "Get over here and go back to your room, or you'll be left with two bodies instead of one."

"You'll have to go through me first." Anya reluctantly let Finny's motionless form rest on the cold floor. She stood as if pulled by the strings of a marionette. She squared her shoulders at Alois and stood her ground. Grief had wiped away all traces of fear or timidity. "Eugene, get behind me. Now."

"You aren't indispensable, _darling_," said Alois. "A bullet in the leg would render you incapacitated just as well as one to the heart. I don't see the harm in breaking just a few of the old man's rules. It's not like he would know, anyway."

Anya sneaked a step forward. If she could keep him talking, she might have a chance to get that gun…

"What are you talking about?" she asked meekly, playing up her helpless position. "The Count actually agrees with all of this?"

"He did at first," Alois boasted. "I had him in the palm of my hand. He said if I could 'rescue' you from Ciel, he would promise you to me. But then we had a little… disagreement. He refused to lend a helping hand in my plans for Ciel. He was too drunk to think. I merely took advantage of the situation, and _poof_; he was out of the way. Hannah and the triplets are taking care of things at your old home as we speak."

"You killed him," Anya flamed. "He was the only relative I had left, and you killed him in cold blood!"

_First father, then mother. Then Finny, then grandfather. Why do the people I love keep getting hurt?_

The answer was there; she had known it all along. It was all _her fault_. When Anya was conceived, the Count shot Ian Criel. When Ian died, Amelia gave up on living. Because Anya ran away, Finny was shot. Because of Anya, people whom she had trusted and loved were dead.

Eugene wouldn't be next.

The next few seconds seemed to pass in slow motion. Anya pushed off with her back foot and charged Alois. Startled, he did the only thing that his brain was wired to do at the moment.

He pulled the trigger.

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah, breakup depression really shows, doesn't it? Now I understand old Billy S. a little better...<strong>

**Moony: So why did you kill Finny? Do you really want to kill your first ex that badly?**

**Of course not! We were great friends before, and we're friends now, too. :) Nope, not awkward at all... Well, we'll see. I actually already have a coulpe hundred words of chappie 9 done already. This one was longer, but I cut it off just to leave y'all hanging^^**

**Moony: Don't say we didn't warn you! And thank you to helloXlove for that extra motivational push! Maya was too wrapped up in her new book (we type in the library at school a lot) but the notification email of your subscription kicked her into gear. This one's for you, you little random stranger, you!**

**Arigato gozaimas, minha! **

**Moony: The fudge are you trying to speak Japanese? **

**Feel like it^^**

**Moony: Okay... R&R everybody, and thanks for putting up with this crappy fanfic and Maya's love life.**

**I do _not _have a-**

***dial tone***


	9. Chapter 9

**Okayyy…. So this is the last chapter!**

**Moony: Finally…. But allow me to introduce all of you Fanfictioneers to our good friend, Dr. Prongsie, who has graciously agreed to co-write this author's note!**

**Prongsie: *strokes beard* Hm, what to say, what to say…**

**Moony: *rolls eyes* Thank you, Dr. Prongsie. Now leave.**

**Moony, don't be rude! Or I'll go tell Holly-chan to get that big stick and-**

**Moony: FINE! *overly polite* Dear Prongs, won't you regale us with your rapier wit?**

**Prongsie: …*blink*…*tackleglomps Moony* MUH-HOONY! …and Johnny Depp, just for the heck of it.**

**Holly: I leik 2 tyPe leik dis cuz I'm kewl like dat.**

**The fudge? Holly, when the heck did you get here? **_**How**_** are you here? This is my fanfiction.**

**Holly: I was just here to remind you about yo guest star appearance in mine. Plus….  
>…not yet. ;D<strong>

**Love you, too, nii-chan. *sigh***

**BlackXWhite: And then there's me…..sitting over here…..all unnoticed…so Canadian….. XD**

***others continue conversation as if nothing was said* HETALIA FTW!**

**Moony: You people are crazy. Why am I friends with you, again?**

**All: … Cuz you love us? **

**Holly, would you do the honors?**

**Holly: Unfortunately, Maya and Moony do not own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler. If they did, well….they'd be sharing the madness they would cause with me. xD**

* * *

><p>A lightning bolt tore Anya's mind in two. One half was screaming, louder than she had ever screamed before. The pain was burning like the fires of Hades itself, blossoming like a whip-lashing rose of thorns. The other half was muted and silent, the calm determination of her act keeping back the turmoil of Anya's torment.<p>

And right in between the two factions was a glowing beacon, bringing the extremes into mediation. The fire of the burning faction receded enough for Anya to blearily see Alois and Eugene grappling on the ground with their bare hands. She sighed with relief, although it pained her to do so. Eugene had spent his whole life laboring in the stable yards; his strength would win out.

Anya gave herself to the numbing power of that glowing beacon, expecting that she would be dead in a few moments. Instead, the light shone ever brighter, bringing her senses into crystal clarity.

_I'm not going to let you give up,_ the voice sounded in her head. _Not after everything else I've put you through!_

_Who are you? _Anya thought back. It was strange, since the voice was identical to hers. _Why am I not dying?_

She sensed a more physical presence near her. Anya opened her eyes to see twin pools of striking amethyst hovering above her. A girl who could be Anya's twin helped her to her feet, and she realized that they weren't in Alois's house anymore. They were in that same cloudy whiteness from the night of the Equinox.

_Well, almost my twin_, Anya amended. _Her hair looks just like Hannah's. It's completely silver!_

"You can call me Creel," the girl answered. "That's the name I've gotten used to. And you aren't dying because I say you aren't." She held a hand over Anya's abdomen, where the bullet had gone straight into her stomach. The wound was suffused with light, and, suddenly, it wasn't a wound at all.

"You can keep it if you want," Creel offered Anya a cleaned bullet. "It could be good luck."

"It was you?" Anya breathed, bewildered. "You're the reason I've been healing so quickly? But Alois said that was a Blessing from-"

"An angel?" Creel smiled sadly. "Sorry to say, but I'm your girl."

"How did this happen?"

"I don't have time to explain right now," Creel fretted. "I wish I did, but this is taking up far too much energy. My powers aren't what they used to be." She snapped her fingers, and the clouds started melting away. Anya could suddenly feel her body again, lying unconscious on the floor. The sounds of a struggle reached her ears.

"Anya, I need you to listen to me very closely. When you wake up, you will have a trace of this power left in you for a short time." A writhing ray of light streamed from Creel and into Anya's hand. "If you act quickly, you can still save Finny. No, he isn't dead- yet. You must go to him, and think of me. It will drain nearly all of the energy that I have left, but I owe you this at least for putting your life down this path."

"Wait," Anya urged. Her hold on this world was slipping, but she needed to know more. "Are you the one who interfered with my destiny? What will happen if I use this?"

"It doesn't matter," Creel promised. She folded the bullet into Anya's hand and waved her own hand in front of the brunette's eyes.

Anya started awake, clambering jerkily to her feet. She had to ignore Eugene and Alois for now; her only objective was lying in a pool of blood a few feet away.

"Please, Creel," Anya whimpered. She folded her bullet into Finny's hand and placed both of her hands over his quivering breastbone. _Thank God, he isn't dead._ "Save him, I'm begging you."

The same stream of light from before flowed from Anya's hands like water, sinking into Finny's skin. Anya waited for what seemed like centuries before feeling the nearly nonexistent beat of her best friend's heart slowly become stronger and faster. Finny suddenly convulsed into a coughing fit, hacking and choking. A small metal sphere popped out onto the floor, and he groaned. Finny's clear eyes snapped open.

"No!" he screamed, darting upright. The movement made him dizzy, and he had to lie back down. He stared up at Anya with a goofy, glazed expression. "Your hair is brown again," he giggled.

"You're delusional," Anya laughed, tears running down her cheeks. She kissed his cheek lovingly.

"No," he said adamantly. "I just saw you… your hair was white, or silver, or…" Finny studied her for a minute. "But your eyes are different now. What happened?"

"I don't know," Anya soothed. "But it's okay. At least I don't have white hair anymore, right?"

Finny nodded. "Yeah. I like it better this way…" He trailed off, totally out of it. He was crazy, unconscious, and possibly color blind. But he was _alive_.

_Thank you, Creel._

A huge crash behind her shook Anya to attention. The large front doors had just been pulled off of their hinges and left outside. The early morning sky was coloring with the approaching dawn. A lone figure was silhouetted against the gray clouds.

"It is good to see you again, Miss Anya," Agni bowed. "Earl Phantomhive said that you might be in need of assistance."

"H-Hello, Agni," Anya fumbled. "Alois and Eugene are-"

"Right here, your ladyship!"

Anya squeaked and turned to find Alois hogtied on the floor. Eugene stood over him, smirking. He had a few new bruises decorating his face, but Alois was much worse for the wear.

"I can't believe you let this wimp kidnap you, Anya," he chuckled. "He's a pansy! I mean, compared to me-"

"At least he was able to kidnap me properly," she teased back. "You didn't even get me out of the house!" Eugene stuck out his tongue at her, and they both laughed, relieved that everyone was alright.

"Wait," Anya panicked. "Where's Sebastian?"

"Have some faith, won't you?" Sebastian was suddenly there, with Alois under his arm like a sack. "Claude won't bother us now; he's a bit tied up at the moment."

* * *

><p><strong>Claude cursed Sebastian in every language he knew, which was quite a few. He was surrounded by thousands of nearly invisible threads. As his body began to shake, one of the razor sharp silver threads sliced through his sleeve and gently caressed his arm, drawing blood.<strong>

**The spider was caught in his own web.**

* * *

><p>"It's wonderful to see you, Agni," Sebastian smiled.<p>

"Likewise, my friend."

"Hey, what happened to gardener?" Eugene gasped. He looked Finny over, searching for the bullet wound. All that was left was the excess blood and a light pink scar. He stood shakily, eyes flitting from one person in the room to another. "He- he was barking _dead _a few minutes ago!"

"Not quite," Anya whispered. She slipped the silver shining bullet into the pocket of Finny's jacket. "He never fully left us. Agni, could you please help me with Finny?" Together, the two lifted the unconscious boy from the floor, not minding the sticky blood. Anya only let Agni carry Finny alone after nearly losing her grip several times. They crossed the threshold of the empty doorway and stepped into the early morning. Standing at the front gate were Hannah and the triplets; Thompson, Canterbury, and Timber.

"Please wait," Hannah called, not making any move toward them. "Please return Earl Trancy to us, butler."

"My master wishes to make an official arrest on Lord Trancy for the murders of the business owners in London," Sebastian replied smoothly. "You and your coworkers have been busy these past weeks, covering his tracks and hiding him."

"Please," Hannah repeated, taking a step forward. "Master Luka has ordered me to save his brother if he is in danger at any cost. I will be forced to kill if necessary." Her eyes tried to lock on Anya's, begging for her to understand. Anya looked away. The older girl's betrayal still stung.

"Sebastian," Anya said softly. "D-Demons only have to obey direct orders, don't they?" The butler looked surprised, but nodded. "Did Ciel give you a direct order to arrest Alois?"

"No," Sebastian reluctantly admitted. "My orders were to find and rescue you, and to keep Finian safe." He shook his head, not believing what the maid was suggesting. "This is your chance to make sure he won't hurt you again. Are you so mad as to hand him over for no reason?"

Anya eyed Sebastian with both wariness and exasperation, a strange combination. Now that she knew his true nature, - Now what? Anya realized that the fact that her comrade wasn't a human being didn't change her view of him at all. He was still the twisted, sarcastic soul that she had grown accustomed to at the manor.

"Are you so mad as to arrest someone for no reason?" she finally retorted. "No jail cell could keep Alois; Claude or Hannah or those three over there could have him out before the lock was turned. Just save yourself and Ciel the trouble and call this case dead."

"Anya-"

"Just hand him over, Sebastian!"

"… Very well." Sebastian crossed the small distance to Trancy's servants. The triplets stepped forward and Sebastian deposited Alois into their arms. In an instant, they were in the house. One took care of Alois while the other two untangled Claude.

"Thank you," Hannah smiled. "Master Luka wishes to thank you, as well."

"You're welcome," Anya whispered. She looked Hannah in the eyes for the first time, and was struck by the regret she saw there. "I heard you, before. I know you were following your orders. Are we still friends?"

Hannah looked relieved. "O-Of course. I was worried that you would hate me… Did he tell you about..?"

"My grandfather? Yes, I know he's dead. What about it?" Anya's tone was dead; she was too tired to deal with much more. _Well, I just died, so… yeah._

"That makes you the new head of house." Hannah said slowly, as if speaking to an invalid.

Anya blinked. "Come again?"

"The Count is dead," Hannah enunciated. "You are his last blood relative, the heir to his estate. The entire Rosenbloom enterprise belongs to you."

Anya looked around sleepily. "Sebastian?" she implored. "What do I do with a company?"

"The head of the company must keep up with its finances, schedules, trading, overseas relations-"

"I don't want to do that. Can someone else do it for me?"

Sebastian shook his head. "The only way to give over the company to someone else is to either die-"

"Did that," Anya mumbled.

"Or sell it out to a buyer," the butler concluded.

"That's easy," Anya said bluntly. "Couldn't Ciel do it? He doesn't even have to buy it; he can just take it. A company wouldn't be of any use to a maid, but Ciel is used to managing things like this, right?"

Sebastian blinked. "You want to give the young master a _company_… so you can continue to work as his _maid_?"

"Why Sebastian," Anya smirked. "A true Phantomhive butler would understand immediately; my only goal is to serve. Besides, I haven't got the first idea as to how one runs a business!" She looked doubtful for the first time. "Ciel _will_ take the company for me, won't he?"

"…Agni, would you mind escorting Lady Criel and Finian to the main house? I'll be going on ahead to consult the young master."

"Of course."

"I should go home, too," Hannah sighed and watched the butler's trailing dust hit the first rays of morning light. "Earl Trancy will wake soon and need medical attention." As she made for the front door of the mansion, Anya called out to her.

"Hannah! I meant what I said about writing! You know my address!" She winked and trotted after Agni to help him situate Finny on one of two black horses tied to a tree.

* * *

><p><em>I think she could have made brother happy, <em>Luka despaired. _Why do we have to let her leave?_

"Your brother would crush her spirit," Hannah whispered gently. "Without that hopeful spirit, she wouldn't be happy, herself. Tearing another soul apart wouldn't make Master Alois happy."

_We will find something, won't we?_

"Yes, my lord," Hannah smiled. "I promise you that we will."

* * *

><p>"Anya!" Mey-rin cried. Her greeting carried across the front lawn as she made a beeline for the quickly approaching horses. "You're all right, yes!"<p>

Anya laughed and waved from her side-saddle position, making sure to keep one arm wrapped securely around her partner's middle. Finny was still knocked out, but it was from exhaustion rather than injury. It had been difficult to ride the horse in this position at first, (and wearing a nightgown and jacket, no less!) but Anya was an expert equestrian and got the hang of it quickly enough. Agni dismounted his horse before helping Anya slide Finny from the saddle.

"Oh, my!" Mey-rin gasped when she saw the gardener. Bard had heard her shouts and was exiting the manor behind her. "Is he…?"

"He's fine, 'Rin," said a voice to her left. Bard put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Finny's too tough to be down for long. I've seen this happen before; he's so unused to major injury that when he _does _lose a lot of blood, he just sleeps it off for a day or two. Right, Anya?"

"Yes, he's okay," the maid confirmed. "He took quite a hit, though. I can't believe we made it." Suddenly, Anya felt quite tired herself. _I'm home,_ her heart seemed to rejoice.

"Lady Criel," a voice called from above. Anya looked up to see Sebastian leaning from a high window. It didn't take Anya long to realize that it was the study window that the butler had repaired. "The young master would like to speak with you."

_Lady? _Mey-rin and Bard thought simultaneously.

"I'll just be a minute," Anya called. She turned to Agni and Bard. "Bard, can you get Finny to bed on your own?"

"Er, sure thing." The cook accepted the bundled up gardener from Agni and set out for the door.

"Anya, why did-?"

"I'll have to tell you later, Mey-rin," Anya said sadly. She pulled Finny's jacket around herself more tightly. "The young master is waiting for me."

* * *

><p>"You do realize what you're throwing away?" Ciel pressed again. "This is an entire legacy that has been passed on to you. Are you sure you don't want to think about it?"<p>

Anya shook her head. "A thing like that would be lost on me. This could help you with your duties to Her Majesty." She tapped the outline of the business on the desk between them. "Grandfather had several shares in major stocks, including Funtom Toy Company. There are also railroad connections, steamships, that old mine… You can do whatever you want with them."

Ciel smirked. "You have yourself a deal, Lady Criel." He frowned at the sour face she pulled. "What's the matter?"

"I don't want to be the head of a household," Anya sighed. "Getting rid of a company is one thing, but how do I get out of the Rosenbloom title?"

"You don't," Sebastian interjected. "I suppose you could simply 'go missing', but the only one who could officially remove your status is-"

"Her Majesty, Queen Victoria," Ciel finished. He sighed and fingered his fountain pen restlessly. "I suppose if you really wanted, I could write to her and see what happens."

The maid raised an eyebrow. "I may not know much about how all of this works, but I'm almost positive that asking the Queen of England a favor like that wouldn't be normal. Thank you, anyway. But Sebastian, what was that thing about 'going missing'?"

"There is always an alternate for the head of a noble family," the butler recited. "Although the current head of the family -meaning you- cannot simply abdicate, there is an exception. If you were to disappear or become unable to perform your duties, the position would go to the alternate."

_Very good, _Ciel approved. _He hasn't forgotten a single thing from those studies._

"So if I 'disappear' after I give Ciel the company, the alternate will run the Count-like things while Ciel keeps the business?" Anya asked. Ciel nodded. "So, who is the alternate?"

Ciel shuffled through some papers on the desk until he found it. "Oh, you must be _kidding_ me…"

"What?" Anya urged. "Who is it?"

Sebastian read over his master's shoulder and smirked. "Oh, it isn't all that bad. It seems that in his last recorded writings, the Count intended for mister Alistair Chambers to be the successor of the estate."

Anya cocked her head to one side. She had never heard that name before. "Who is Alistair Chambers?"

"He's also known as the Vicount Druitt," Ciel groaned. "He is by far the most annoying bastard I've ever met."

"Why would grandfather name him as successor?" Anya wondered. "This is the first I've even heard of him."

"May I?" Sebastian plucked a small slip of paper from the pile. "This appears to be an engagement license between Lord Druitt and a Lady Amelia Rosenbloom."

"Mother?" Anya snatched the paper away from Sebastian. "You were going to marry someone else?" She whimpered. "Why would you do that?"

"Look a little more closely at your mother's signature," Sebastian advised. The certificate held three signatures; the familiar, cramped writing of Count Rosenbloom; the loopy, flamboyant scrawl of Vicount Druitt; and the loose, careful script of Anya's mother. As Anya brought the sheet to her face, she noticed light blots where the ink had run on her mother's handwriting.

"Those are tears," Sebastian added. "She was crying when she signed it, so we can assume that she wasn't marrying Lord Chambers willingly."

"Sebastian," Ciel laughed nervously. "We can't _tell_ that those are tears just from looking, can we?"

"I can smell the salt, my lord."

"Sebas-!"

"It's okay, Ciel," Anya sighed. "I know about Sebastian's… origins. It doesn't bother me, and I still view him as the same old stick in the mud as before."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Ciel put his head in his hands. "Alright, alright! My maid is Blessed and friends with my demon butler. I'm completely caught up now, aren't I?"

"Not quite," Anya said slowly. "My lord, I really don't think that I have the Blessing that Claude was talking about."

"But you did have contact with the angel, correct? Isn't that how you healed both yourself and Finny?"

"Yes, I talked to Creel. But Alois told me that a Blessing protected a household from misfortune. Since I've been here, the attacks on your house haven't lessened; on the contrary, I caused a few of them. I really don't think a so-called Blessing would allow that." Anya rubbed her sleepy eyes and yawned. "I don't know what happened with me and Creel, but she didn't Bless me."

"I'm sorry," Ciel said apologetically. "You've been up for most of the night, haven't you?" He eyed Anya's nightwear and then averted his gaze. "Go get some rest; I'll call up Lord Druitt and take care of the papers."

"Thank you," she murmured. As Anya staggered to the study door, Ciel had a sudden thought.

"Anya?

"Yes?"

"Have you looked in a mirror since you returned?" Ciel asked in an offhand manner.

"No," Anya answered, automatically patting at her hair. Sebastian sighed and disappeared for a few seconds, suddenly returning with a full length mirror. He set the mirror in front of Anya for her inspection.

"I'm so sorry," she grumbled, straightening her nightgown and Finny's jacket. "I've hardly had time to primp after all that's-"

"Look."

Anya scrutinized her reflection. Her feet were still bare, and had felt the chill of a long ride. She scrunched them into the carpet for warmth. Her eyes traveled upwards to the hem of the white pajamas and jacket. The warm brown material trailed past Anya's waist, whereas on Finny it barely passed his hips. As suspected, her hair was a mess; the top was a bird's nest while her bangs fell in web-like patterns across-

"M-My eyes!" Anya stepped closer to the quicksilver reflection, blinking rapidly and shoving hair out of the way. Her left eye was just as it had always been. Her right had turned completely green; a light jade corona around the pupil blooming into deep emerald around the edges of the iris.

"S-Sebastian… I think that I might-"

"Of course," Sebastian bowed. He stepped forward and caught Anya as she lost consciousness. His trademark smirk slipped, however, when he sensed most of the girl's inner functions slow down rapidly.

"Young master, something isn't right!" Sebastian scooped Anya up, for once not knowing what to do. "Her heartbeats and breathing have slowed dramatically, and her temperature is decreasing by the second. We must-"

"She's fine."

Ciel shrieked at the voice coming from behind him. He flung back the curtains to reveal Hannah outlined against the glass.

"Anya will be okay," the maid repeated. "There is something that she needs, and she will wake up when she has found it."

"When she finds what?" Ciel demanded. He edged farther away from the window. "How do you know about this?"

"Lord Phantomhive, I know better than anyone else what it is like to have another soul living inside of you. That angel has finished its quest; now it's up to Lady Criel to send it home." With that, she tumbled from the window sill and ran off to tend to Alois, who was just waking up with a nasty headache.

* * *

><p>"…ya. Anya! Wake up, please! We don't have much time!"<p>

Anya sat up, holding her pounding head. It hurt to look around; the light was so bright! A shadow fell across her face, and she peeked between her fingers at the figure looming over her.

"Creel?"

"Yes, it's me, nice to see you, etc., etc. Just get _up!_" The angel hoisted Anya to her feet and pushed her in the direction of a glowing light. "You need to know everything quickly so I can get out of here. Just watch and I promise I'll explain everything later!" Creel disappeared from Anya's sight as she was swallowed by the brightness.

**Anya was floating again. It was just like her dream –or Cinematic Record, she recalled- in that she had no sensation in her body at all. She was near the ceiling of Count Rosenbloom's study. A much younger looking Count was arguing with a young man and woman. The woman was dressed finely and had her long brown hair in curly waves. The man was weathered and rugged, but still only in his early twenties. His mossy eyes flashed with determination as he addressed the Count. Anya realized with a sob that the young couple was Amelia and Ian Criel.**

"**I won't have it!" the Count boomed. "Amelia, I forbade you to interact with him. You deliberately disobeyed me!"**

"**Father," Amelia cried. "I love Ian! Can't you just let us be happy?"**

"**Please, sir. I love your daughter more than anything in the world."**

"**Don't talk to me," the Count spat. He pointed a shaking finger at Ian. "You are officially fired. You have five minutes to leave my lands before I have you arrested."**

"**Don't you dare." Amelia stood in front of Ian. "Father, I'm not going to marry that man. It wouldn't be fair." She held up her left hand and showed off the small silver band on her ring finger. "Ian and I are husband and wife and nothing you say can change that."**

"**You are-! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't send you to- to a nunnery!"**

"_**Because I'm pregnant!"**_

**The Count froze, a hand clutched at his heart. In a sudden flurry of rage, he ripped open one of his desk drawers and pulled out a handgun. "You son of a-!"**

**BANG!**

**Amelia screamed. She knelt by her husband's side as his lifeblood flooded the floor. Anya felt something wet on her face and realized that she was crying. She felt a wave of sympathy wash over her, a feeling that was not hers.**

_**That poor man**_**. Again, the thought was not Anya's. **_**His life shouldn't have ended this way**_**.**

**The scene shifted to the last thing Anya had seen in her Cinematic Record. Collette Tolliver stood with the infant Anya in her arms. A knock sounded on the door and Count Rosenbloom entered. He cried when he saw his lifeless daughter and grandchild.**

_**This isn't right, **_**the thoughts raged. **_**No one family should have to suffer this much.**_** Apprehension filled Anya, and she felt her spiritual embodiment move to hover over the dead baby Anya. She breathed a slow breath, and there was a flash of light. A healthy baby girl opened her large purple eyes and cried.**

**Anya felt herself being whisked through the void again. **_**That was Creel, **_**she realized. **_**Creel… she literally gave me life! I really was born dead, but she saved me. But that wasn't a Blessing, was it?**_** Her thoughts were interrupted by a new picture. She was still viewing past events through Creel's eyes.**

"**You have broken our most sacred law," a voice intoned. At the top of a great golden stairway, a strikingly handsome man stood in the clouds. His hair was as white as the new fallen snow, his eyes the color of dark violets. Creel was on her knees at the foot of the stairs, bound in silver chains.**

"**Archangel, please," she sobbed. "I- I couldn't just let that child-!"**

"**You took the life of a human into your hands," the archangel continued emotionlessly. "To attempt to control fate is to assume yourself as God. You abused the authority given to you by Heaven, and you must suffer the consequences. Do you repent?"**

"**No," Creel strained. "I will not repent, but I will beg you not to take that child's life away from her!"**

"**A gift from Heaven is never taken once given freely," he sighed. "But that child now possesses a part of your soul. You gave too much of your spirit in your act, and you may not stay here any longer. You will be as the Fallen are; unable to take your own form or shape. When the time comes, that child whose destiny you countered will be faced with a choice, and **_**your **_**life will rest with **_**her.**_** Only then may you return to our Blessed home. May our God have mercy on your immortal soul."**

**Creel and Anya cried out in unison as the silver chains dragged them through the clouds; down, down, down to the earth below.**

**The next thing Anya felt was that most joyous sensation of flying. Rivers and trees flitted past with each beat of her wings. Contrasting with her joy of flight was a crushing sadness emanating from Creel. She was bound to hop from one consciousness to another, only controlling the actions of small creatures. Such as birds. The bird was hungry, so Creel allowed it to light on the roof of a stone building.**

**As the bird's natural instincts regained control of its actions and Creel began to sink deeper into its mind, the sound of sobbing came to her ears from a barred window underneath her. She took back control from the bird and fluttered down to rest on the sill. A small human boy with plain garb and a shaved head was sitting in the corner of the bare room, crying.**

_**T-That's Finny! **_**Anya gasped from her vantage point in the bird. **_**This is where those doctors kept him for injections?**_

**Creel's sympathy for the young lad was prominent in the forefront of her mind; she saw how lonely he was. Anya could feel time passing; every morning for maybe a fortnight, the bird would land on the window sill and watch Finny. Sometimes he would be too tired to pay them much attention, but on most days he would smile and talk to the little bird.**

**On a particularly sunny day, Creel brought the bird to the window again. In the time she'd spent around the compound, she had discovered the use of experiments on the children here. She felt even sorrier for the boy than before. When Finny clumsily attempted to mimic the bird's whistling voice, Creel led it into a shallow dive and entered the room. The boy looked delighted, the happiest that Creel had seen him yet.**

"**Hello," he whispered, holding out his hand. His offered the bird some of his own bread. "Would you like to be my friend, little birdie?" Anya almost tried to keep it from happening, though it was no use. The bird flapped into Finny's open hand and pecked lightly at the food. Finny sighed contently and raised his other hand slowly to pat the bird on the head.**

**It was dark. Anya felt Creel's fear and pain as though through a shroud of mist. She worried over what to do, where to go. She was too weak to carry on how she had been. Her spirit only had one safe place to repair and revive itself. Creel let loose her hold on the tethers that held her spirit to the earth and let herself be drawn to the largest source of her own energy; a young girl with brown hair and violet eyes.**

**Days and weeks and months passed by in fast forward. Christmas. Anya's birthday. The lone hours in the garden. All of it recorded from the very back of Anya's mind, where Creel waited. She repaired and restored herself, growing steadily stronger. Then one evening came into focus.**

"**Milady," a maid whimpered. "T-the Count would like for you to come to dinner." Anya turned away from her desk and the poor girl jumped, trembling.**

"**Thank you, Nina," Anya sighed. "Can you tell him that I'll be along shortly?"**

"**Do- Do you need any-?"**

"**No, thank you," she said sadly. She tried to smile at the terrified younger girl. "I can get ready on my own." After Nina left, she changed out of her more comfortable clothes and into her least complicated gown. "I hope everyone isn't upset," the old Anya muttered to herself. "I guess I shouldn't have suddenly thrown such a tantrum last night…"**

_**Oh no. **_**Anya looked at the memory with growing fear. **_**This is that night!**_

**Anya left her room and crossed the courtyard to the dining hall. Every servant she passed bowed fearfully and gave her a wide berth. Suddenly, a kitchen hand gave a shout and they were upon her. Faces of people she had known her whole life flashed by; Cook, Nina, the blonde maid, the one stable girl, and Eugene. Always Eugene. The memory took Anya through the whole bloody ordeal, right through to her meeting with Sebastian. When she blacked out, the memories floated away.**

Anya was in the white void once again. Now she saw the same golden stairs from Creel's past. Creel herself was still chained just out of reach of the first stair. The numerous chains were mostly broken, lying in heaps around the angel's ankles. Only one strand of silver links was keeping her from returning to her home.

"Anya," she begged. She clawed uselessly at the manacle on her wrist. "Please… you're the only one who can break this!" Anya ran through the syrupy fog to kneel by her guardian's side.

"What can I do?"

"You have the key," Creel grunted, pointing to the small round hole on the manacle. "You have to give it back to me, or I'll never be able to break free of your consciousness!"

"What key?" Anya questioned. She patted down the sides of the jacket. All she could find was the bullet that Creel had given her before.

"That," Creel breathed in relief. "Please Anya, you need to focus. Imagine… Imagine a bright light inside of you. I need you to let that light soak into that bullet. _That_ is what is holding me here. _That _is our link that I formed at your birth. Hurry, I don't have much time!"

Anya cleared her mind and held the small metal bead in both hands. As her eyelids slipped down, she understood that if she let Creel go, she would only be a normal human. A part of her fought against it, and wanted her to keep the angel's powers for herself. It told her how useless she would be without Creel; she couldn't fight, she couldn't protect Ciel, and she would lose the thing that had given her life a jumpstart.

_What will I be without that power? _She panicked. _I don't know how to make it if it's only me! _Then she remembered that it wasn't Creel who had escaped Rosenbloom manor. It was Anya who had found Ciel's house, made friends there, and become an exceptional maid. It had been _Anya_ who lashed out against Alois at the gala.

And it was Anya who Finny had told that he loved her.

With a shuddering breath, Anya imagined that pure light inside of her swirling to her hands and into the bullet. She instantly felt lighter, as if a whole other load of worries and emotions had lifted from her heart. She opened her eyes to see the small sphere in her hands engulfed in light. Without any urging from Creel, she slowly took the angel's bound hand in hers and slid the pulsing orb into the keyhole. The shackles sprung open with a small _pop_.

"Anya," Creel laughed. Tears of joy were running freely down her face. "You precious, precious, child. Thank you!" She hugged Anya tightly before straightening and facing the glittering stairway. As she raised her face to the light, two silvery, feathered wings unfurled from her sides. Creel's gossamer wings lifted her high above Anya's head.

"I won't forget this," she promised. "Dear sister… I can't repay you for this. You willingly gave up that which you felt had helped you the most. I can never truly give you a Blessing, but you have my thanks. If you ever really need me, know that I will do my best to help you. Goodbye, little one. Your loved ones are waiting. Go live _your _life." Creel raised her arms, and Anya fell back into the darkness.

* * *

><p>"How long has she been like this?" Finny fretted. "Shouldn't she be waking up by now?" Anya was laid out on Ciel's desk. Sebastian had refused to move her from the study, or even touch her. Something was mingling with the girl's essence, and the demon didn't like it at all.<p>

"'She will wake once she finds what she needs'," Ciel quoted. "If what Hannah said was true, all we can do is wait." Finny keened with worry and resumed pacing the room. He was the only other servant in the study. Bard and Mey-rin had insisted that they come in too, but Ciel had shot them down. The only reason Finny was there was because the Earl feared that he might break something. He had woken shortly after Anya had blacked out, and had immediately sought her out.

"You were unconscious for far longer than Anya," Sebastian reminded him. "It's only been ten minutes and forty-three seconds."

"How is she supposed to find something if she's asleep?" Finny blurted. "What is it she needs to find?"

"Finian," Sebastian said firmly. "Do you remember what happened this morning?"

"A little," Finny confessed. "I thought I got shot, though… What really happened?"

"To make a long story short, you almost left us," the butler said sadly. Ciel blinked. He could have sworn he just saw _remorse_ in Sebastian's eyes. "Anya was able to call you back."

"Really? All I remember was darkness… But then I heard her voice, calling for me." Finny clenched a hand over his heart. "She needed me, so I followed the sound. And then I saw Anya, except it wasn't her. She had white hair. She hugged me and touched me where I got shot. Then I opened my eyes and Anya was above me, crying. Her hair was normal, but her eye..." He walked tentatively closer to where Anya was laid and gently took her hand.

"That's what she needs to do now," Sebastian said softly. "You found your way back, and now Anya is finding hers."

"Anya," Finny whispered. "I don't know what you're looking for, but please find it soon and come back to me." He raised her still fingers to his lips and kissed them gently. "I need you to come back to me because I love you."

Anya jerked into wakefulness with a gasp. She fell off of the desk, but Finny caught her before she could hit the floor. He barely gave her time to orient herself before drawing her into a lung-crushing hug. Anya didn't try to hold back her tears. She had never felt like crying this much in her entire life.

"You're safe now," Finny whispered in her ear. He settled her on his lap and held her while she cried. "You're safe and you're home and I won't ever let anything else hurt you." Anya nodded into his chest and looked up at him through her tears. Finny gently wiped the tears from her face, revealing her eyes.

"You're eyes are beautiful," he decided. Anya sniffed and looked at him with confusion.

"T-The purple one?" she croaked. "Or the green one?" Finny implored Sebastian with his eyes. The butler sighed heavily and turned the mirror on its side. Now that it was on Anya's level, she could clearly see that all traces of her unique violet eyes were gone.

"I really have my father's eyes," she whispered. She tackled the boy again, crying this time from joy. "Finny, I have my father's eyes and my mother's hair!" She laughed uncontrollably while the three young men watched, flabbergasted, and pondered the strange inner workings of their beloved friend.

* * *

><p><em>Two weeks later<em>

"Happy Birthday!" the assembled staff cheered. Anya squealed as Finny swept her off her feet and set her back down on the edge of a table. Bard had somehow prepared an amazing picnic for them in the greenhouse, consisting of some fruit, cheese, hot cocoa, and a small cake topped with white chocolate icing.

"Thank you, everyone," she laughed. "Let's dig in!" Mey-rin sat next to Bard on a large overturned flower pot, and Finny hopped onto the table with Anya. He smiled and squeezed her hand lightly. The Phantomhive servants ate, talked, and watched the fluffy snow fall through the glass of the greenhouse.

"So… you're fifteen now," Finny eventually said. Mey-rin nudged Bard and they inconspicuously slipped out into the cold.

"I- I guess I am," Anya answered. She gave Finny a look. He only stated the obvious like that when there was something on his mind.

"Well, that is, you see…" The gardener turned red and stared at the wood graining in the table. "Have you thought about… the future?"

"What do you mean?" Anya asked casually, though her heart was thumping frantically at his words. She pressed her thumb questioningly into the back of his hand.

"Oh, I'm not going to be able to say this right," Finny moaned. "But- But I'll say it, anyway." He scooted off of the table to look Anya in the eyes. "Anya, this might sound weird coming from me, but c-could you see us ever getting married?" He immediately dropped his gaze to the floor again, face redder than ever before.

Anya gasped. "Finny, I-"

"I know we're too young to be thinking about this, and I know that I couldn't provide anything for you and this work is really dangerous, and I'm clumsy-"

"And you ramble when you're nervous?"

"Yes! But you know I love you and I'm pretty sure you love me too, right? And you don't have to answer now- of course you don't, it's your birthday!- because you're only fifteen and I'll only be seventeen in a few months, but I just thought that-!"

"Finny?"

"Um, yes?"

Anya grinned at him. "Stop talking." She slid off of the table so she didn't have to talk down to him anymore. "You didn't let me finish. Do you really even have to ask?" She pulled closer to Finny and put her arms around him tightly. "Maybe not today, next year, or even the next, but I want to be with the person I'm in love with, and that's you, you silly, wonderful boy." Anya gave her blushing beau a chaste kiss to emphasize her words.

"R-Really?" Anya nodded. "Then let me do this properly!" Finny pulled away from Anya just a bit. He sank down on one knee and gazed deeply into Anya's emerald eyes. "Anya Criel, you make me happier than I ever thought I could be. You make me feel as if I could truly be your protector and partner in life. We don't need to just yet, but when the time comes, will you marry me?"

Anya Criel searched Finny's face. She was looking for any insecurity or doubt. What she saw was pure love and determination. So she took both of his hands in hers and spoke her first words as an engaged woman.

"For you, Finny, I will."

* * *

><p><strong>Pleasedon'tkillmepleasedon'tkillmepleasedon'tkillme! GAH that ending! I'm sorry if it's too-<strong>

**Moony: Too what? Cheesy, abrupt, predictable, lame, uninspired-**

**SHUT THE FRONT DOOR! I wanted this to end on a sweet note after explaining it all... wow, I really just sort of rushed through this chapter, didn't I? I got massive writer's block for a few days, so I tried to re-inspire myself my going over the previous 8 chapters and FINALLY doing some edits.**

**Moony: Well congrats, la-tee-dah, and a real big whoop. Can we please go back to our normal lives? I. Need. Sleep!**

**And I don't? I've been having dizzy spells... lack of sleep? Or is the paranoid doctor right and I really am anemic? Who cares, we finally finished Fallen! Thank you SO much to everyone who put up with me since October.**

**Moony: Happy V-Day, thanks muchly, and R&R, because you never know what this crazy chick might drag up next!**

**Actually, there _was _that old plot for the Shugo Chara fanfic with Kai-**

***dial tone***


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